


By Her Side

by tejaswrites



Series: The Grace of Shadows: Persephone Hawke & Knight-Captain Rylen [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Happy Ending, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Modern Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Modern Thedas, NSFW, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Romance, Smut, in every universe, they're just wildly in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28338798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tejaswrites/pseuds/tejaswrites
Summary: Persephone Hawke, president of Kirkwall, wants to do all she can for her city. It’s near impossible though as the war fought in the city’s street forces her to stay within the walls of the palace.Lieutenant Colonel Rylen Clacher was sent to Kirkwall on assignment for an organization known simply as Templars, who believe Persephone has information they need.When a threat is made on Persephone’s life, Rylen makes it his duty to protect her. He knows they shouldn’t get involved—she’s a noble and political leader, he’s a soldier with a mission—but he can’t stay away. What starts as a fling threatens to turn into something much deeper by their newfound closeness, if only they could stop holding themselves back.
Relationships: Female Hawke/Rylen (Dragon Age), Hawke/Rylen (Dragon Age)
Series: The Grace of Shadows: Persephone Hawke & Knight-Captain Rylen [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001937
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a year, so I wanted to wrap it up with something lighthearted in the style of a more traditional romance novella with the OTP. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you, as always, to my best friend Eilfiadh who helped spark and grow this idea, as well as beta for me.

A blast sounded from outside the walls of the palace, this one much closer than any before. Persephone Hawke strode to the window and pulled back the curtain, looking out into the inky blackness to see where it had come from. Guns jarred in the distance, the takka takka of gunfire against the backdrop of another blast.

Someone grabbed her arm, pulling her back from the window.

“Have you lost your mind?” Her seneschal, Bran, snapped as he released her and quickly pulled the curtain shut.

“I have in fact,” she retorted, “especially if I have to spend another day cooped up inside the palace.” 

“Must you be so dramatic?” Bran’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “There’s a war outside the gates.”

“I know,” Persephone sighed bitterly, “I was there when it started.” 

A third blast sounded, shaking the walls of the palace. Her door burst open and the captain of the Kirkwall Guard, Aveline Vallen, rushed in with several others. “Get them to the cellar!” Persephone opened her mouth to argue when Vallen pointed a finger at her. “No argument from you, Hawke. Cellar. Now.”

She might as well go willingly as Persephone had no doubt Vallen would drag her down if she had to. She swiped her laptop and phone from her desk and followed one of the guards downstairs.

The cellar had been dug deep into the rock of the mountain, possibly older than the palace itself. As much as she liked to protest, Persephone liked the cellar. She liked the silence, away from everyone demanding something from her.

Racks of wine dusted by the passage of time lined the now well-worn path to a room in the back. It was already unlocked as a guard stood at the entrance, quickly gesturing her inside. As soon as she slipped through the door, he pulled it shut behind her and locked it, sealing her away from the world once more.

The room was lined with shelves, which in turn were lined with books and scrolls, some dating back to before the time of Kirkwall. Library, archives…no one knew exactly what it was and what information was contained within it, but Persephone loved the solitude. It had been one of her favorite places in the entire palace when she first arrived, but lately it had been more of a prison than an escape.

There was another door nearly hidden between two bookshelves that led to a cozy space with a simple bed tucked into the back corner and a desk opposite it. She set her laptop down on top, plugged in the internet cable, and flipped it open to wake it back up. The never ending pings started up and she sighed before resigning herself to the chair to see what she’d missed in the ten minutes it had taken her to move.

As she read through the information, seeing the live reports of what her people were going through, another thought formed in her mind. One that dug its claws into her thoughts and wouldn’t let go.

She pulled up her messaging app and started a new text to one Colonel Cullen Rutherford - ATN. The man had been assigned to Kirkwall as tensions began to rise throughout the city-state, at Kirkwall’s invitation, of course. Though it was more complex than that, because when the Alliance of Thedosian Nations requested to send in peacekeepers, one did not simply reject the offer. Not without being branded a troublemaker and Persephone already had enough of a reputation. 

It wasn’t about the reputation. She couldn't care less about that. However, she did worry about the people of Kirkwall. She didn’t need them to suffer too. 

Persephone was not one to reject help for those who needed it. The rising tensions had quickly spiraled out of her control and Kirkwall—and her people—needed all the help they could get. For Kirkwall, she would do anything, which is exactly why she had to get out of this palace.

> _Me_ : I have to go into the city.  
>  _CR_ : No.  
>  _Me_ : It’s important.  
> 

She’d hardly pressed enter when the secure line at the corner of the desk rang. She lifted the handset to her ear. “Speak.”

“Madam President. Rutherford speaking.” 

She blew a loud breath through her mouth. “I hate being called that.” 

“Lady Hawke, then.” She hated that one too, but she kept that to herself as he continued, “Bran warned me you’d ask about that. I’m sorry, but I can’t allow it.”

“I can’t sit in a cellar and do nothing while my people suffer!” she argued.

“You don’t have a choice. We don’t have the manpower, not yet. Nor does your guard.” 

“I can take care of myself. Just tell your people to let me through the gate.” 

“That’s not going to work,” Rutherford sighed. She pressed her lips together, resisting the urge to say something in response as silence spread through the connection. At last he said, “I’ll see what I can arrange later this week. Maker willing the city still stands.”

“Of course she will. Kirkwall will outlast us all.”

“That may be,” he let out what was supposed to be a chuckle, but it was strained with exhaustion. “I’ll be in touch later this week. Don’t do anything reckless.” 

“I’m never reckless.” 

“Right,” Rutherford sighed, “Please?”

“Fine,” Persephone conceded, “I’ll stay put until you come up with something.” 

“Thank you. Good night.”

With that he hung up and Persephone was alone in her small basement room once more. Nothing else to do except get back to work, she decided, as she clicked back open her email.

***

The screens glowed in the darkness of the room, images of blasts flashing in the dark, corresponding to the dull echoes he could hear in the distance. Lieutenant Colonel Rylen Clacher leaned against the back of his chair, angling it back as he stared at the images. It wasn’t the first time scenes like this had played out around him and it wouldn’t be the last. Not with the war escalating and spreading across Thedas. 

“I hate this,” Geddes said from next to him.

Rylen rolled his head over to the side to look at his colleague and friend. “I know.” 

Geddes shook his head at the screens in front of them. “Peacekeeping doesn’t work when one side won’t stop fighting.” 

“I know.” 

“Do you think it’ll ever end?” Geddes reached for a paper cup, probably filled with the lukewarm coffee they had in the break room. The thought of drinking that now made his stomach curdle. Not that he was a big fan of coffee as it was, but whatever they were serving here at the swiftly erected Alliance of Thedosian Nations, or ATN, situation room was too much even for him.

They called this part of the city “The Gallows,” a throwback to the days when a Tevinter fort occupied the site. It was long gone, as was much of the old city, buried deep under new construction. Legend had it that the blood of those killed here made mages’ connection to the Fade particularly strong, which is probably why the Marcher rebel mages were trying to take control of the city.

And it was why he was here.

The intel said the man they’d been looking for was last spotted in Kirkwall and that the city-state’s president was one of the last known people to see him alive.

Another flash lit the dark screen in front of him, illuminating the facade of Kirkwall’s palace. He had to find a way inside if he was to get the information they needed.

“Divine Justinia has publicly called for it. If anyone can get them to agree to a truce, it’s her.”

“Right, but none of the groups are working together. What makes you think she’ll succeed?” 

“I have to believe in something,” Rylen told him as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’m going to talk to the Colonel. I’ll be back.”

A few people roamed the building as Rylen made his way through the nondescript hallways to where he’d find his commanding officer, Colonel Cullen Rutherford. The man told someone on the other end of the line he’d arrange something for later in the week. There was a resignation in the man’s voice and he told the person on the other end goodbye and hung up.

Rylen lightly tapped his knuckles against the doorframe before entering. “What’s that for, ser?”

Cullen glanced toward him and sighed again, longer this time. “President Hawke.”

His eyebrows lifted that. Just the woman he was hoping to speak to. She wasn’t the only person who’d seen the man, but she was the last confirmed sighting. “What about her?” 

“She wants to leave the palace.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the laptop in front of him and shook his head.

“Is that so?” 

“She’s determined to. If I don’t help her, she’ll find a way out on her own and then we’re really in trouble.”

Cullen wasn’t wrong about that. They needed whatever information she had, but more than that, she wasn’t known for being forthcoming about anything. Little was known about her life before she left Ferelden during the last blight, but she rose quickly in Kirkwall, especially after proof of her noble heritage came to light. The news coverage he’d watched presented a taciturn leader who mostly bored the international press. They covered her because they had to, not because she sold papers. She wasn’t near as interesting as other world leaders.

Which made it harder for him to find an in with her. And now here was an opportunity that was far too good to pass on. “What about me?”

“What about you?” Cullen asked, his eyes darting back up to Rylen’s.

“I’ll go with her, as a personal guard.” At Cullen’s frown, he added, “Me and Geddes. We can handle her, between the two of us.” 

Cullen shook his head again, though he seemed to at least be considering it. “It’s not you I’m worried about. Who knows what’ll be out there, we need her alive if we have any hope of tracking down Anders.” 

“I know. I’ll get the job done.” 

Cullen studied him silently for several moments before flattening his palms against his desk top and pushing himself to his feet. “That’s why they sent you.” 

“Aye, it is.” 

“Alright. Come with me,” Cullen said as he pushed himself to his feet. “We can’t let the president just wander around. We’ll need a plan.”

“Understood,” Rylen agreed as he followed Cullen out of the office and down the hall. One of the doors had biometric access and only after both men provided their fingerprint and personal codes did the door open. 

Inside, a woman manned a desk in the tiny room next to a wall of cubby holes. She gestured at them and both men emptied the electronics from their pockets, placing them into the particular spaces with each of their names underneath.

“All good?” the woman asked. 

Cullen nodded and she clicked a button and the second door buzzed before clicking open. There was still a third door with yet another code, but soon enough they stood in a smaller version of the ATN’s situation room. The two people in front of the screens nodded at their entrance, though they didn’t move from their posts.

“Major Karner,” Cullen greeted the blonde woman. “You remember Lieutenant Colonel Clacher.” 

“I do. Good to see you, Lieutenant Colonel.” She nodded at Rylen before addressing Cullen again, “What do you need?” 

“President Hawke wants to leave the palace. Do you still have that plan we prepared for that?” 

“Give me a minute.” She tapped quickly on the keyboard and windows flew across the screen, almost too fast for Rylen to keep track. There was a reason he was out in the field instead of sitting behind a screen most of the day. At last, she pulled something up. “I’ll print the non-classified parts for you, but the rest you can review on that laptop.”

Rylen followed her outstretched hand to a lonely laptop in the corner. He wondered what was in the plan that was too classified to leave this room, but he’d find out soon enough.

“Thanks,” he told Karner and then turned back to Cullen. “I’ll finish the plan and let you know what day.”

Cullen let out a slow breath. “Thanks, Clacher. That’s a load off my back if you can make it happen.”

“Not if, but when, ser.”

A genuine smile appeared on Cullen’s face, the first Rylen had seen from his commanding officer since he’d arrived in Kirkwall. “I appreciate that, more than you know. I’ll leave it in your hands.”

***

It was a dreary day. Clouds hovered over Kirkwall and threatened rain, but Persephone wouldn’t let that dampen her mood. Not when she was leaving the walls of the palace for the first time in months.

Rutherford had come through for her, just as she knew he would. Competent and compassionate was a good combination for the man leading ATN forces in Kirkwall and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, Persephone tucked a flyaway strand back into her bun and then buttoned her blazer before stepping out into the hallway. Two soldiers with automatic weapons strapped to their chests waited there. They weren’t the usual guards she was accustomed to that waited outside her rooms, but their pale blue vests marked them as Rutherford’s.

She nodded at the two men, her eyes catching on the one at her right. It was the dark tattoos inked on his nose and chin her eyes were first drawn to. She couldn’t help but be intrigued by what they meant and why he’d so boldly chosen to permanently mark his face with them. Her own tattoos were tucked away, hidden behind layers of clothes. The tattoos were matched by a scar over his right eye that gave him a hard look that piqued her interest. The pale blue of his bulletproof peacekeeper vest nearly matched his eyes, bright against his warm skin, and she could just make out light brown curls peeking out from under his helmet.

“Lady Hawke,” he greeted her, “We are to accompany you into the city today.” 

“I’m certain you have better things to do than follow me around. The driver will be enough, you may go.” She gestured them toward the door with an uninterested wave of her hand.

The man lifted his eyebrows. “I’ll not go anywhere. My orders were clear.” 

Her eyes darted to the ceiling in frustration and she started toward the door at the end of the hallway and the two men fell into step behind her. Without looking back, she told him, “I assure you I can handle myself.” 

“I believe that, but I report to Colonel Rutherford, not you.” 

She stopped and spun around to face him. He gazed at her without any indication on his face of what he was thinking. “Do you know what I am?” 

“Aye,” he nodded.

“Then what makes you think you’ll be able to help me?” He held her gaze evenly as his eyebrows once more lifted and the corner of his mouth ticked up in amusement. Her eyes dropped to his lips at the movement and she wondered, every so briefly, if they were as warm as they looked, before she quickly snapped her gaze back up to his eyes. She pressed her lips together. “Well?”

His eyes flickered to the other soldier’s and unspoken words passed between them. Neither of them moved as the other soldier left, his footsteps echoing down the hall until the door creaked open and softly clicked shut again. When he again looked at her, his nostrils flared as he took a breath. “I don’t think you know what I am, my lady.” 

Persephone’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Oh?” 

His head tilted to the side almost imperceptibly as he held her gaze. Her eyes dropped to look him over, briefly, as she didn’t want to be caught staring. If Rutherford had deemed it necessary to replace her guards, there was something different about him. Something the others weren’t capable of. 

As she held his gaze, attempting to ignore the intensity of his grey-blue eyes that awoke something inside of her, she leaned forward and took a slow, deep breath through her nose.

There was nothing there.

She frowned at him as she righted herself. He didn’t smell much different than Rutherford. Earthy, like a soldier, but with a spiciness of ginger and citrus that was rather unique to him. It breathed life into that cold, dead part of her, warming it from the inside.

His eyes danced and she narrowed hers in return. He’d been teasing her, expecting that she’d heard the rumors that lyrium smelled like air after a lightning strike. Whatever that smell was, he didn’t have it.

“Well played, but I’ve always thought templars were a myth,” she shook her head, disappointed in herself for falling for his jest, “No more than a fairytale to frighten mages into behaving.”

The edge of his mouth quirked up and she again found herself wondering how warm his lips would feel against hers. “I assure you we’re not,” he told her.

“Prove it.” 

The lines that appeared at the corner of his eyes as he smiled enchanted her, as it seemed everything about the man did. He held out his hand to her. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Hawke. Lieutenant Colonel Rylen Clacher, at your service.”

Finally? She wondered what that meant as she reached out to shake his hand. When her palm connected with his, a pleasing warmth spread up her arm and a thrill shot down her spine. She managed to snatch her hand away and sever the connection before the shudder ran through her body. Curse him, she thought, as she narrowed her eyes and said aloud, “What was that?”

“Lyrium. You canna smell it, not anymore, but you can feel it.”

“Lyrium,” she repeated as she frowned down at her palm, still tingling with warmth. “So we do have templars in Kirkwall after all.”

“Aye, you do.”

She glanced back up at him. “What are you doing here?” 

His smile widened as he pointed at the giant ATN plastered across his bulletproof vest. “Peacekeeping.”

She lifted her eyes to the ceiling before turning away from him and striding toward the door at the end of the hallway. He didn’t even need to hurry as his long stride had him alongside her in mere seconds. Right before they reached the doors, she abruptly stopped and pressed a finger into his chest. “So you exist. They wouldn’t waste a templar on something like peacekeeping.”

He took in a sharp breath before his hand wrapped around her wrist and he pulled it away from his chest. That same warmth spread throughout her body and Persephone had the thought that she wouldn’t mind feeling that more frequently. He kept a firm grip on her wrist as he leaned forward, lowering his head toward her.

She held her breath. The warm hum of the lyrium danced between them and he was so close…his gaze and his touch was doing things to her that she hadn’t experienced in a very long while. Maybe ever.

“Clever lass.” He lowered his voice as he lowered his mouth toward her ear. “Turns out, I’m here for you.”

She wrenched her arm away from him, severing the connection that made her want to believe he was being honest. He was flirting with her, nothing more. This connection between them was nothing more than the lyrium in his blood speaking to the magic that flowed through her. She snapped, “Don’t flatter me.” 

“That wasna my intent.” 

She shook her head and reached for the door. “And Lieutenant Colonel?”

“Ma’am?” 

“Don’t ever call me lass again.” She made the mistake of looking over her shoulder at him.

A tease appeared in his eyes. “You like being called clever then?” 

“Oh, for the love of—” she rolled her eyes as she cut off and pulled open the door to the next hallway. 

The other soldier snapped to attention. “Madam President. Lieutenant Colonel.” 

“And who might you be?” she asked.

“Name’s Geddes. Captain Geddes,” he replied.

“From Starkhaven as well?”

At the question, Rylen’s eyes darted toward her. He hadn’t told her, but she’d spent enough years around the would-be prince of Starkhaven, she knew Starkhaveners well enough.

“Aye, what gave it away?” Geddes winked.

“Your bonny face,” Rylen quickly interjected.

“Are you also a—”

“He is,” Rylen interrupted. She turned to him and was surprised to find him standing incredibly close to her. He lowered his voice and said, “That information was meant for you alone, Lady Hawke. Best not to broadcast to anyone who might be listening.” 

She nodded, too surprised to think of a clever come back. He’d given her information that was, for whatever reason, meant to be kept secret. He held her gaze as he stepped back away from her and Persephone had the sense that he was staring deep into her soul. Like he somehow saw her in a way no one had before. Best for her to ignore him, she thought.

She broke eye contact, trying to regain her composure as she turned back to the other soldier. “Captain, have you ever been to Kirkwall before?” 

“Few times. Always a good stop on the way to Ferelden.”

“Oh? I’d be delighted to hear your thoughts on the way to the car.” 

“I’d be glad to,” Geddes beamed as he held out an arm to escort her. Persephone took it, taking great delight in the irritation she felt coming from one Lieutenant Colonel Rylen Clacher. One particular soldier with whom she was afraid she’d find herself _very_ much in trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

“Wait, stop over there!” she directed the driver, reaching forward from the backseat to post at a loading zone near the Hanged Man. 

The excursion had been mostly just a drive around the city, though she was still thankful for the opportunity to venture past the walls of the palace. Captain Geddes had taken the front seat with the driver, leaving her in the back with the Lieutenant Colonel whom she found far too attractive. The few quick stops to do little more than stretch their legs hadn’t been near enough to get away from him, so she remained aware—too aware—of every move he made.

“Why?” the driver asked, not making any attempt to stop.

The parking spot passed them by. Persephone sighed, “I wanted to stop by the tavern, but it doesn’t matter.” 

The driver exchanged a look in the rear view mirror with Rylen. Over the course of the day she’d come to realize that he’d controlled the entire outing, from where they went to how long they stayed. Anytime Persephone had tried to steer them off course, to visit an old friend or check in on a merchant, he’d kept them strictly to the schedule. They’d let her out of the palace walls alright, but it wasn’t quite the freedom she longed for.

Though she didn’t know what she expected. Rulers had no autonomy, not really.

She stared out the window as Captain Geddes spoke cryptically to no one in particular. Presumably whoever was listening at the other end of his earpiece. When they again approached a part of the city that looked familiar, she turned to Lieutenant Captain Clacher inquisitively. 

“We can stop for a drink,” he told her, answering her question before she could even ask. 

They didn’t park in the spot on the street, but instead pulled up to a back entrance. An entrance she hadn’t had cause to use in a number of years. 

Rylen hustled her inside and into a back room that she recognized. It was Isabela’s, or at least it had been after…well, it was empty now. As soon as they were inside the room he released her and spoke in hushed tones to the other soldiers. 

Persephone wandered over into a chair in the corner, a chair by itself that she could watch the room with. After she did so, Geddes joined her, settled down onto the small table next to her. “Fancy a drink?”

“Wine, please.”

“Any kind?” 

“Dry red.”

“Coming right up,” he winked at her as he sauntered back toward the entrance to the room. 

Rylen was still deep in conversation with another soldier so Persephone pulled out her phone. She took a quick photo of the room and had hardly clicked send on the text to Isabela when her phone was snatched from her hands. 

“Hey!” she snapped, leaping up to grab it back from the phone thief. Rylen, she should have known. 

He held it up over his head, too far for her to reach, as he glared at the screen before he locked it and gave it back. He shook his head as he told her, “Dinna tell anyone where you are and never send a photograph of who you’re with.”

“It was to my friend Isabela,” she grumbled as she took her phone back. “She’s abroad.”

“Next time, tell her after you’re back in the palace,” Rylen told her, as he settled into the chair she’d just risen from. 

Persephone crossed her arms and glared at him. 

“What?” he asked.

“I was sitting there.” 

“Were you?” he mused, looking around as though that surprised him.

Persephone rolled her eyes. “Yes.” 

“Sorry. You can join me if you like,” he shrugged, gesturing at his lap. 

Her breath caught in her chest. It was an inappropriate joke and he had to know it, but if she would play along… “Oh?” Persephone glanced around, noting that most of the other soldiers had made themselves scarce. “I think I will.” 

“You will?” The surprise in his voice was evident and she took great pleasure in the sharp inhale as she settled herself directly on his lap.

They weren’t skin to skin, but she could still feel the hum of the lyrium in him. It was less intoxicating than it had been the first time she’d felt it, but it gave her a sense of contentment all the same. A happy hum that made her position all the more comfortable.

She shifted to glance over her shoulder at him and he stiffened at the movement. He’d removed his helmet, his light curls now wild once freed from their restraint. She longed to run her hands through them and see if they were as bouncy as they looked, but instead she dropped her gaze back to his eyes. “Called your bluff, did I?” 

“That you did, la—Lady Hawke.”

She smiled, pleased to have one upped the man at last. She twisted and he took another sharp inhale. “What is that?” she asked as she met his eyes, darker than the ice-like color she’d become accustomed to throughout the day. “Three points to your one?” 

“That sounds…right.”

She frowned at him. It wasn’t anywhere near right and his quick agreement was off. His throat bobbed as he again swallowed, a five o’clock shadow having spread across his face in the hours they’d spent together. And as she studied the scruff on his neck, she noticed his hand at her waist, his thumb passing over her hip bone. At the touch, she couldn’t deny all the feelings that had been dead and buried deep inside springing back to life in the most enthusiastic way. 

Persephone swallowed as she pushed off his lap. “That was fun, but I’d like my chair back now.” 

“Canna do that right now,” he told her, just as the door burst open behind her.

“Drinks!” Geddes exclaimed. 

Persephone gratefully turned to take the glass of wine from him. She still hadn’t quite grasped what happened with Rylen, but thinking more about it now wouldn’t solve anything.

Not solve, though it’d certainly put more complexity into her life. Complexity she didn’t need. Especially when he would be leaving Kirkwall sooner rather than later. She wouldn’t fall for him and his charm. She couldn’t. She couldn’t survive that if she did.

Geddes circled the table in the middle of the room and handed Rylen a glass. Persephone couldn’t help but notice he never touched it, much less took a sip, the entire time they spent at the tavern. 

Though it was far less fun to be with two soldiers she hardly knew instead of the group she’d loved so much. She downed the rest of her glass. “Well, shall we get me back to the palace?”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Rylen told her, at last rising from the chair he’d stolen from her.

“Hardly,” she scoffed. He didn’t laugh. 

They exited through the same entrance they’d come in. They rode back in silence and within a quarter hour were driving back through the gates of the palace. Back into the mundanity of life behind those walls, a life she would not have chosen if she’d known then what she’d known now.

Or would she have?

She would choose Kirkwall every time and if that meant the loneliness that now surrounded her, wrapping her in its comfortable familiarity, she would do it again and again. Even if a soldier’s pale eyes and warm skin made her wish she was anyone else but Lady Hawke, President of Kirkwall.

It was with a resigned sigh that she trudged back into the palace and to her office. She was aware of the man following her as she did. He hadn’t let her out of his sight all day, and though she was back in the security of the palace walls, she took comfort in the fact that he still felt some level of responsibility for her, even if it was only because she was president.

At her office door, he stopped, even as she entered. Persephone knew she should let him walk away and never think of the man again, especially as there was nothing more that could come of their knowing each other except…except something temporary.

“Lieutenant Colonel?” she called through the open doorway. He froze at the sound of her voice, slowly turning until he faced her. His eyes questioned, even as he didn’t move. “May I speak to you? Alone.”

It was only a couple beats of her heart, though it felt like an eternity, because he nodded and stepped through the threshold to her office.

She paced away from him, back toward her desk.“I have a feeling I know who was responsible for today. Thank you.” 

“It was my pleasure.” 

“I appreciate you looking out for me.” He nodded in acknowledgement, but she continued, “Even if it was just your job to do so.” 

He gazed at her for several beats of her heart. Part of her longed for him to say it was more than that, but the other part knew that it was best to keep him at a distance. He was only here temporarily and would leave, as every one else who’d ever been in her life did. As much as she hoped he might be different, she knew he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

At last, he told her, “It might’ve started that way.” 

“Then how did it end?” 

“You’re an attractive woman, Lady Hawke.” 

She paced toward the window. The curtains were pulled back and she looked out at Kirkwall. “You don’t have to flatter me. I’d prefer if you didn’t.” 

“I wouldna say it unless I mean it.” 

She shook her head and stared out at the city below. Blackened buildings reduced to rubble dotted the city streets beyond the walls of the palace. “You may leave. Thank you again, Lieutenant Colonel.” 

There wasn’t a single sound of movement from behind her. She took several deep breaths and then looked over her shoulder. “Well?” 

“Why did you ask me to stay back?” he asked, easing toward her with steady steps. The intensity in his eyes threatened to undo her, and for the first time in years, she considered allowing it. Though only temporarily. Whatever the might have, it could only be temporary. 

He reached her at last, his imposing presence in her space. When he was this close, she could hardly breathe. Her breath caught in her chest. “I…” 

“I’m not alone in what I’m feeling then. You feel it too.” He wasn’t touching her but he may well have been by the way her heart hammered in her chest and electricity zinged along her skin in anticipation.

She swallowed, the sound loud in her ears. “I’m not interested in a relationship.”

“I didna say anything about a relationship, but I’ll admit…I want you,” he told her, his voice sliding over her like waves of pleasure, “Persephone.” 

Her name was too much. She pressed her lips together and stepped away from him. She couldn’t say why she bothered fighting what she wanted so much, especially when he’d just said he wasn’t interested in a relationship.

Besides, she _was_ lonely. 

Before she could second guess it or take it back, she said, “If you want me, prove it.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “How?”

“Give me your phone.” 

He dug his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and handed it over to her. Persephone quickly typed in her number and saved it, then returned it back to him. “Figure it out and perhaps I’ll talk to you again.” 

A smile played at the edge of his lips as he slid the phone back into his pocket. “I look forward to the pleasure.”

“As do I, Lieutenant Colonel. Now go or I’ll call my guards to kick you out.”

“Would you really?” 

“I would, if only to remind you who’s truly in charge here.”

“In…charge?” The edge of his lip quirked up again. “We’ll see about that, Lady Hawke.” 

***

The curtains had long ago been drawn and Persephone typed away on her laptop, intent on ignoring the mounting disquiet that the soldier she’d so brazenly flirted with that afternoon might not, in fact, follow up on those flirtations. At first, just after he’d left, she’d kept herself busy with all the work she’d left behind, but now, as the work settled down and darkness settled over the city, regrets creeped in through the cracks of her resolve.

Embarrassment began to color her memories of the day, especially of what happened in the tavern. Now, in the cold, dark loneliness of her life, she could see more clearly what had happened. She should not have pushed him when he was so clearly uncomfortable.

With a sigh she dove back into the last report. Bran didn’t really need her approval on anything; he’d been running the city-state as well as anyone in the interim period between President Dumar’s untimely death and when Persephone was finally selected for the position. 

Her phone buzzed on the desk next to her. She stared down the number she didn’t recognize that appeared on the screen, little dots dancing under the phone number as it continued to buzz. She pressed a hand to her chest and took a steady, slow breath, before reaching for it. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest as she swiped her finger across the screen and lifted it to her ear. “Speak.” 

“Effie, is it?” Rylen’s lightly accented voice slid through the earpiece.

“Impressive that you figured it out so quickly,” she said, trying to force a bit of nonchalance into her voice. He’d never let her live it down if he discovered she’d been waiting next to the phone, of that she was certain.

His laughter had goose pimples erupting down her arms, even though it was the middle of summer. The aircon had to be on too high, that was surely it, and not his voice. “I figured it out hours ago, but I thought to wait until you were less occupied. I’d think you have a lot of work, being president and all.” 

“I do.” 

“Do you now?” 

“Have a lot of work?”

“Aye.”

She rose to her feet and paced toward the window cloaked in a heavy covering. She didn’t push it back, though she still stood at it, imagining the city beyond. “It never ends.” Silence dragged through the line and she worried she might have inadvertently told him she was too busy to speak more with him tonight. “And you? How is your work?” 

“I enjoyed today,” he told her, though it didn’t quite answer her question. “I haven’t had much time to see Kirkwall before now.” 

“How long have you been here? I don’t think you mentioned that.” 

“Couple weeks. Mostly stuck inside until the fighting ceases.” 

“You and me both.” 

“That we are…” he trailed off as though he were hesitating. “Can I ask you something?” 

“You may ask, but I may choose not to answer it.” 

“Can I call you Effie?” 

Her breath caught in her chest at the name once more rolling from his lips. A name she hadn’t heard anyone use for nearly twenty years. “You may. In private.” 

A pause came through the phone as he took a slow breath. “Then there will be private moments for us?” 

“I hope so,” she told him before she could regret the decision. He would leave Kirkwall, as everyone she’d ever cared for did, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy the time they had together. She wouldn’t fall for him—she couldn’t—but Persephone had done a decent job of separating the physical and emotional. This man would be no exception.

“I’d like that,” he finally said after another lengthy pause.

“Good. In that case, may I call you Templar?”

“In private moments.” 

She smiled at the light tease. “So tell me what you’ve been up to in Kirkwall, Templar.”


	3. Chapter 3

The SUV was already running out front when Rylen pulled open the door and climbed in, greeting the others already inside. Major Karner was riding shotgun and Geddes was seated in the back next to him.

“Morning, ser,” Geddes greeted him, “Looking forward to seeing her again?” 

“Seeing who?” Rylen adjusted his holstered weapon for the drive.

“President Hawke.” 

Rylen frowned. “Why would I be?”

“Been awhile since you seen her last.”

“What are you getting at, Geddes?” 

The man shrugged though a smile played at the edges of his mouth. “Just wondering since I heard you been having nightly calls with the bird.”

“Who told you about that?” 

“Come on, min, it’s not exactly secret.” 

Karner glanced up at the mirror and made eye contact with him. Her too then. Rylen had included the information in his reports, but he hadn’t guessed how widespread that information would become. “It’s part of the mission, that’s it.” 

“Right,” Geddes winked, “And that’s why you’ve been in a right bonny mood since ye met her?”

Rylen narrowed his eyes at Geddes, but that only drew hearty laughter. As attracted as Rylen was to Effie, he wasn’t a fool. She was president of a city-state and he was a simple soldier on a mission. Not that it would stop them from enjoying each other’s company if an opportunity presented itself, he hoped. She seemed to agree.

On arrival at the palace gates, their vehicle was thoroughly searched before being allowed through. One of Kirkwall’s guards led them to the courtyard where the president would be giving her speech and meeting with the visiting dignitaries. There’d been chatter about an agent trying to gain access to the event, though to what end they didn’t exactly know but it involved Effie in some way.

He swept the courtyard, sending the others to check other access and viewpoints. They all turned up nothing, so they’d have to check the guests themselves. With a templar stationed at each entrance, he went to tell Effie they were ready.

The guards at her doorway let him approach without a shred of concern. Rylen didn’t like that one bit and vowed to talk to Cullen about getting her better security. He’d heard the man lament how poor of a job Guard-Captain Vallen did, but Rylen himself hadn’t seen it until this moment.

At his knock, she called out for him to enter. A smile spread across her face when she caught sight of him and, despite himself, Rylen smiled in return. His heart thrummed a little faster, but he ignored it, pushing the feeling down. “When the guests are all in the courtyard, I’ll take you.”

“I appreciate your assistance, Lieutenant Colonel.” 

“It truly is my pleasure, my lady.” 

She broke eye contact and glanced to the side, a hint of pink across her cheeks. When she looked backed at him and her dark blue eyes held his gaze once more, a breath caught in his chest and his heart beat loudly in his ears. His tactical earpiece crackled to life with Geddes’s voice telling him the guests were in place.

Whatever she’d been thinking before, her face was now an impassive mask. “Shall we?” 

He nodded and followed her out of the room, down the hallway. Polite applause sounded as she stepped through the doors to the courtyard and approached the podium set up for the event. Rylen circled around behind her to a vantage point where he could see the entire courtyard and all the people in it. The others were in their assigned places and scanning the crowd, just as he was.

His eyes drifted toward Effie a time or two while she spoke. The seal of Kirkwall was blazoned on the ceremonial sash she wore over her outfit, the blood red a splash of color against the all black of her dress. It made the red of her lips all the bolder against her pale skin.

He would’ve gladly watched her the rest of the event, but something prickled against his skin. Magic. And not Effie’s. He couldn’t say how he knew that since he’d only spent the one day in her presence, but it was comfortable and familiar to him in a way that whatever magic he now sensed wasn’t.

Rylen again scanned the crowd, looking for anything—or anyone—out of place. Everything looked in order, but that prickling didn’t disappear. If anything, it’d gotten worse. He glanced over at Geddes to find the man already looking at him. It wasn’t just Rylen then, there really was something off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught an older man lifting his cane, a tight grip in the center instead of on the handle and he narrowed his eyes at Effie as he started to mutter an incantation.

Blast.

Rylen quickly smited the man, before he could finish whatever he was trying to do. The blast of air sent several people nearby lurching and the man staggered at the direct hit. It surprised Rylen that he wasn’t knocked over completely, most were when hit with smite.

He ran into the crowd, shoving people aside as beelined for where he’d last seen the old man, but he was gone. Wildly, he looked back toward Effie, but Karner was already moving her toward the doorway back to the palace. She was in good hands with Karner, so Rylen turned his attention back to the chaos of the crowd around him. The man had been wearing a blue button down shirt and a black baseball cap, except he couldn’t locate someone in that chaos as people tried to get out of the way of whatever had happened.

He shouted into his earpiece for the guard to stop everyone who tried to leave the palace as he continued his scan of the crowd. Where had that person gone?

When the panic had calmed and he checked each person left in the courtyard until he was certain the would-be assassin wasn’t there. He’d check again, more forcefully, but there was something he had to deal with first.

He stalked inside and pulled out his phone to call Cullen. He quickly filled his commanding officer on what happened and Cullen let him know that reinforcements were on the way. When the reinforcements arrived, Rylen would make sure they went through the palace with a fine-toothed comb. He wasn’t letting whoever it was walk away.

***

Persephone paced her room, waiting for some kind of news. The palace had gone on lockdown as she was hustled away from the garden and, worse, they’d cut almost all communications within the palace. She’d been stuck in her room with no way of knowing what was going on. The woman outside her door, Major Karner she’d come to find out, was also a Templar and had been tasked with keeping her safe. Several more guards—maybe Templars, maybe not—were posted further down the hallway. The only way someone would be able to reach her was either through all of them or through the windows that soared above the rest of the city. 

She stood at those windows now, arms wrapped around her midsection as she stared out at the waning sunlight. She’d long ago divested herself of the ceremonial clothing and now wore a summer sweater and slacks, all black of course. 

A knock sounded from her door, but she ignored it. Whomever it was would come in whether she invited them to or not, such was her life. 

As if on cue, the door cracked open. “Madam President?” 

“What is it?” 

“Colonel Rutherford is here to see you, ma’am.” 

She turned and nodded at Karner. “Thank you for letting me know. You may send him in.”

“At once.”

Karner disappeared back through it and it wasn’t long before Rutherford was striding through in her place, Rylen but a few steps behind him. 

Rylen. She hadn’t missed that he’d smited someone in the middle of her speech. She’d felt the disruption of the Fade in the brief moments before the pillar of light descended in the middle of the crowd. She’d long ago realized that the fact that there were Templars there at all today was no mistake, they’d known something was going to happen.

Persephone folded her arms and glared at the two men now standing in her private space. “Well?” 

“Madam President—”

“Seriously?” she snapped. 

He cleared his throat and tried again. “Lady Hawke.”

“Better. What in the void happened today?” 

“We had reason to believe a hostile would be at your event today. We were correct. Lieutenant Colonel Clacher, ah, smited the person before they could get off their spell.” 

“So you don’t know what they were doing?” 

“No.” 

She focused her glare on Rylen. “You didn’t want to wait and see?” 

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything. He hadn’t spoken the entire time he’d been in the room, only standing behind Rutherford with a clenched jaw. Persephone could almost feel the waves of emotion rolling off him, though she didn’t quite understand what it was. Anger? Frustration? Disgust?

“The hostile escaped before we could capture them,” Rutherford continued. “We’ve swept the palace several times over.” 

She lifted her eyebrows at that. Not only had they gotten in, but they’d gotten away. That explained Rylen’s foul mood. “I see.” 

“Until we can determine who they’re with and what they were planning, I’ve made the decision to increase your guard.” 

“Aveline let you do that?” 

“You and I both know she needs the help.” 

“True,” she agreed, “So am I to keep Karner then?” 

As Rutherford shook his head, Rylen finally opened his mouth. “I’ll be your personal guard.” 

“You?” She snapped her eyes to his.

“Until further notice.”

“That’s not—” she cut herself off. “Why a personal guard?” 

“Is something wrong?” Rutherford asked, his eyebrows furrowing at her objection.

“No, not at all, it’s merely…certainly there’s more important work for your Lieutenant Colonel than babysitting me.” 

Rylen’s eyes narrowed at the words and Rutherford frowned at her. “We hope to have it resolved quickly, but for now, Lieutenant Colonel Clacher will stay with you.” 

She forced a smile to her face that she certainly didn’t feel. “Of course, Colonel.” 

He seemed satisfied with that. A quick nod to her and to Rylen, then he made his way out of the room as quickly as he’d come in, leaving her and Rylen alone.

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments before she narrowed her eyes. “What were you thinking? Smiting someone in the middle of the event? You shouldn’t have done that.”

“And let them…what? Attack you?” 

“At least then we’d know what we were dealing with.” His eyebrows lifted and he opened his mouth to say something, but she kept talking before he could. “I felt the Fade shifting! I was ready. You should’ve grabbed them instead.”

“I wasna willing to risk it. They could’ve hurt you.” 

“Do you not think I’m capable of protecting myself?” 

“I dinna kin, are you?” 

“I’ve survived this long without you,” she snapped and stalked several paces away. “I would’ve been perfectly fine.”

Her heart beat loud in her chest as she waited for him to say something. At last, in an almost defeated tone, he said, “I wouldna been.” She spun around to find him easing toward her with slow steps. “If something happened to you…” 

“It didn’t.” 

“How could I know?” He was close now, close enough to touch if she wanted.

“You were worried?” He nodded at the question. “Why?” 

“I’ve no answer for that. Except…” he hesitated, “we haven’t talked about what’s happening here.” 

“And what is happening?” Her voice had taken on a slightly breathy tone and she swallowed, unable to meet the intensity she’d seen in his eyes. 

She lifted her hands to his chest, pressing her palms flat against his fatigues. He wrapped his hands around hers and though she couldn’t see him, she knew he was watching her closely. 

“You tell me.” 

Persephone lifted her face back to his. In his eyes she saw the questions she had. He’d been worried for her, he’d come back and he wanted to protect her, even if she didn’t need it. Her fingers curled in his shirt and she pulled him toward her and lifted her lips to his before she could change her mind.

At first he didn’t move, but within moments his hands left her—one buried itself in her hair, cradling her as though she was the most precious gift it’d ever held, and the other went to her waist, pulling her body tight against his with a desperation that matched the fluttering of her heart. 

She was certain she’d never been kissed quite like Rylen kissed her. She tightened her hands in his shirt, clutching onto him as though holding on for dear life. She was, in a way, as he ravaged her mouth thoroughly with his and stole every ounce of breath she’d had left.

When he finally broke apart, they both gasped for air, filling their lungs with the breath the other had stolen.

“Oh, Effie…” he murmured as he pressed kisses to her cheek, her eyebrow, the tip of her nose, and then back the other direction. Anywhere he could reach with his mouth as he held her closer still.

She clung to him, too afraid that any movement, any change, would break the wonder of the moment they’d wrapped themselves in.

He tugged on her hair, tipped her head back to press his lips to hers once more. This time, the kiss was gentle and soft, exploring every hidden corner, every angle of her mouth. The near desperation of the first kiss still lingered on her tongue, but he was quick to show her that this new kiss was just as wanting as the first.

Her hands released his shirt and slid up over his chest, around the back of his neck, to hold him tighter. His lips were as soft and as warm as she’d imagined, his tongue expertly teasing and tantalizing hers in an almost playful kiss. She couldn’t help but think that if he loved as he kissed, she was very much in danger of losing her heart.

A heart that had sprung to life and now vehemently hammered with want and need for this man.

Her eyelids fluttered as Rylen pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, breathing as deeply as her while they both tried to catch their breath.

A knock thundered from the door and she pushed away from him. She pressed a hand to her heart, willing it to calm as she turned away, facing the wall instead of whomever was now opening the door.

She could just make out the hitch in his voice and sharp intake of air as he snapped, “What is it?” 

“Comms are restored,” Karner deadpanned from the doorway, “Need to turn yours back on.”

“Give me a minute.” 

“Now, ser.” There was a brief silence and then she added, “Colonel’s orders.”

“Understood.” A rustling came from behind her and she supposed Karner must have been satisfied with whatever happened, as the door clicked shut soon after. 

As soon as it did, she spun around. “Let’s not talk about it.” 

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“About what just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want everyone listening to your earpiece to know.” She rubbed her hands over her face.

“Effie…” 

She shook her head again and started toward the doors at the back of the room that led to her bedroom. “I need some time. Make yourself comfortable.”


	4. Chapter 4

He stared at the door for several long moments after Effie’d closed it behind her. What in the good name of the Maker had he been thinking when he’d kissed her? He hadn’t been, not with his head at least. The thought that something could’ve happened to her that afternoon, something it was his job to prevent, made it all the more important that he…he what? Show her what he felt?

What he felt was no more than desire for an attractive woman. He’d been alone too long if she was getting under his skin that quickly, but all he had to do was survive the rest of the mission and then he’d be gone, forever out of her life. To entertain the idea of something more— 

He shook his head, cutting off the thoughts and attempting to refocus on the task at hand. The room he was standing in was a living area, filled almost entirely by a couch and several chairs in the center. The doors in the back corner Effie’d disappeared through must be the bedroom.

He heard the sound of the water running from somewhere beyond the doors followed by the distinct sound of a shower starting up. He turned his attention to the room he was in. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable looking piece of furniture, but it would be a serviceable place to sleep. A phone sat on a small table next to it, so he sat down on the couch as he picked the phone up and asked the person on the other end of the line for some blankets.

They promised to send some linens up, he pulled out his cell phone as he waited and texted Geddes to ask for clean clothes to be sent with the next guards to come from the barracks. He promised clean clothes by morning.

A knock on the door signaled the arrival of the blankets and the palace staff quickly set to work arranging the couch as a suitable place to sleep. It wouldn’t do long-term, but it was good enough for however long it took them to track down the threat to the president and ensure her safety.

When they’d gone and Rylen was again alone, the silence pressed heavily against him. There hadn’t been a peep from the bedroom, the shower long ago shut off, so he started to get ready to sleep. He removed the earpiece Karmer’d insisted he turn back on, kicked off his boots, and took off the jacket of his uniform. As he draped it over the back of a chair, the gentle click of the door handle drew his attention.

Effie stood in the doorway, damp hair framing her face. Without makeup she looked more tired than she had earlier, but it was the most beautiful he’d ever seen her. She looked real, instead of the unattainable woman he just kissed.

When she just stood there silently and didn’t speak, he asked, “What’s wrong?” 

She blinked at him. “I...I wanted to ensure you would be comfortable for the night.”

“I am,” he nodded, “Will you be?”

“I don’t know. I’d like for you to check my room, if you don’t mind.” 

“Gladly.” He rose to his feet and rounded the couch toward the doors. She stepped aside and cast her eyes down as he passed.

Rylen paused on the threshold of her private sleeping quarters. The room wasn’t as large as he imagined, but it was luxurious. A large bed dominated the far wall and he had the thought that the sheets alone probably cost more than his paycheck. She was a world leader, what did he expect?

It didn’t take long for him to search the room. Aside from the bed, most of the furniture was small and her large closet was easily checked. A floral scent lingered in the bathroom, he tried not to think about how it might linger on her skin. He shouldn’t think of her skin at all, especially not how soft it might be.

He admonished himself for his wandering thoughts. Highly inappropriate to have about a woman who was so far out of his reach. She might stoop to his level for a night or two of fun, but not for anything more.

Not that he wanted more, because he didn’t. He didn’t want or need anything deeper with her. He wanted to do his job and go back to his life before a powerful woman with eyes like the night sky and skin that glowed as though the moons lived inside her.

There wasn’t anything suspicious in her room, but he’d do a more thorough sweep in the morning. Just because there wasn’t a person didn’t mean there wasn’t a surveillance device left behind.

Rylen returned to the outer room and paused in front of Effie. She’d wrapped around her midsection as she watched him, and they tightened further when he stopped.

“All clear, but I’ll check again more carefully in the morning.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” 

“I’m glad to do it.”

“Good night then.” 

“Good night.”

She stood in the doorway and gazed up at him for several extra moments. Her eyes darted all over his face and he had the distinct sense she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. 

Instead, she slipped through the door and closed it behind her. 

Disappointment flowed through him as he flipped the lights off and crossed back to his makeshift bed. He pulled off his shirt before he settled in, allowing his thoughts to drift back to her. In the moment before sleep took him, a brief inkling of hope creeped into his heart that there might be more for them. Brief, because the practical part of him was quick to remind him that someone like her—noble, powerful, beautiful—would never fall for someone like him.

***

After a night fraught with little sleep, Persephone dragged herself through her morning routine. She had her face buried in her phone as she pulled open the door to the outer room, startled to find Rylen leaning against a wall with a cup of something steaming in his hand. A quick inhale told her it was coffee. She should have guessed.

He lifted the cup at her in greeting. “Good morning.” 

“Morning,” she said as she approached the cart near the door. A dollop of butter was set next to her breakfast muffin and the bottle of sparkling water. She picked both up before heading toward her seating area. The couch was cleared of any blankets Rylen might have used the previous night. In fact, if he wasn’t standing in her sitting room she might have wondered whether or not he’d even slept there. She bypassed the couch and instead perched on one of the side chairs.

She’d just started to butter her muffin when he drawled, “I couldna believe when they didn’t bring coffee. Or tea. Or anything but water.” 

Her eyes darted up to his. “Why?”

“I dinna kin anyone who doesn’t have caffeine in the morning.” He circled the chair across from her and settled into it, casually resting his ankle over his knee. He was wearing the same outfit as he had been last night, camouflage trousers and a light brown t-shirt. She’d tried not to stare too much at the tattoos covering both arms, the firm lines echoing those on his face, but she did wonder if the rest of him was as tattooed as what she’d seen so far. He lifted one eyebrow and the edge of his mouth quirked up.

“Well, now you know me,” she said quickly as she looked back down at her breakfast, ignoring the flirtation. His lips reminded her all too well of how brilliantly he’d kissed her the night before. Something she was far too keen to repeat.

“Not as well as I want.” 

She dragged her eyes back up to his and he held her gaze as he took a slow sip of coffee. She inhaled a deep breath as she held his gaze. “And now that we’ve established that, may I finish my breakfast?” 

He shrugged and she very purposefully ignored him as she finished her muffin. When she was finished and her eyes wandered back to him, he was still looking at her in a way that made a warmth flood Persephone’s cheeks.

As much as she enjoyed the kiss, she couldn’t have him looking like that at her all day. Or wearing that. He had no right to look so good in a plain t-shirt. “I need to go to my office. Would you mind putting on some clothes?”

“I’m wearing clothes.”

“More clothes then. To cover...that.” She gestured at his upper body. 

Rylen glanced down at himself. When he looked back up, his eyebrow was again lifted. “Cover what? My arms?” 

“Yes. I can’t have you distracting me.”

His chuckle was that of a warm summer breeze. “I’d no idea you were so old-fashioned.”

“I’m not,” she insisted.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he winked as he grabbed his uniform jacket from where it was draped over the chair behind him and pulled it on over his t-shirt.

Persephone perused her email on her phone as Rylen buttoned and tucked the jacket into his trousers. When he was dressed and armed, he told her to lead the way.

Her office wasn’t far, a “perk” of working in the same building she slept in. A short hallway, a set of doors, and there they were. She hadn’t even fully sat down before a very dour-faced Bran burst into her office. “President Hawke!”

Rylen’s hand tightened on his gun, but he made no move to interfere. Thank the gods for that at least. He’d already smited someone in the courtyard; she couldn’t have him threatening her seneschal for doing his job. 

“Bran,” she replied, “May I help you?”

“There were several action items I needed your decision on yesterday, but in the…excitement I don’t think you saw them.” 

“No, I didn’t. What do you need?”

“First, the nobility is demanding an explanation for what happened yesterday. I’ll have a draft of the official statement to you by the end of the hour. Second, there’s that event next week—”

“What event?” Rylen interrupted.

“We have several visiting dignitaries from our allies and President Hawke will host a reception for them.”

“What dignitaries?”

Bran gave a loud sigh as he whipped out a tablet. “Hmm, I see here we’ve got all the usuals: Markham, Ostwick, Tantervale, Wycome…odd, even Starkhaven has responded with a yes.” 

“Why is that odd?” Rylen interrupted.

Bran glanced up at Persephone before turning his attention back to Rylen. “The relationship with Starkhaven is tempestuous at best.”

“Tempestuous?” 

“You know Sebastian Vael, do you not?” Persephone asked him.

“Aye.”

“We did not end things on the best of terms. He’s been rallying the city against me since, though the current prince is much more favorable to Kirkwall because of it.” 

Rylen nodded once in understanding. Persephone turned her attention back to Bran, “Is that all you need from me?” 

He shook his head. “The ATN won’t release those funds we discussed until they speak to you directly. You have a call with them in just under an hour.” 

“Gods, Bran, could you not have warned me about that?”

“I did,” he replied testily, “ _You_ didn’t check your email.”

She blew out a sharp breath. “Get me everything we have now.” 

“Also in your email,” Bran told her as he tapped away on his tablet. The printer behind her whirred to life. “Don’t screw this up.” 

“I won’t,” she promised before she turned to grab the first printed pages. She would convince the ATN committee that the people of Kirkwall needed the money. The war wasn’t their fault and they didn’t deserve to suffer any more than they already had because of it. 

***

Only after the phone clicked into place back in its cradle did Persephone drop her face into her hands. The call had not gone well at all. She wasn’t proud of the fact she snapped at the governing board. The Ferelden and Orlesian delegates were so high and mighty, acting as though they hadn’t needed resources less than a decade ago for their own foolish fighting.

Thankfully, an old friend from the year she’d spent living at an Avvar hold in the far south had intervened. Otherwise she might have said something she really regretted and Bran would have been furious.

“That was a good thing you did,” Rylen’s voice came from the side where he’d so far waited silently. 

She swallowed and took a steadying breath. She wished he hadn’t had to see that. Surely whatever attraction he’d had would have dissipated as soon as her claws had come out. “I’m not sure it was successful.” 

“You tried, that’s what matters.” 

“Not quite. Not if I can’t get the people the help they need.”

As he gazed silently at her, she took several more steading breaths. At last, he said, “You really care for them.”

“I do. The people of Kirkwall don’t deserve to suffer because some rebels decided to make Kirkwall a war zone.” 

He softly smiled and the corner of his eyes wrinkled for a split second before he furrowed his brows. Before she had an opportunity to understand what it meant, he lifted a hand to his ear and turned toward the wall. 

That cursed earpiece again.

While she’d been prepping for the call, he’d spoken quietly into it, his voice too soft for her to know what he was talking about with whomever was on the other end. It shouldn’t bother her quite so much as it did, but she was beginning to hate that there was someone always there with them.

Perhaps that was good, since the only time he hadn’t had it, the attraction between them had escalated rather spectacularly.

She turned back to her laptop and tried to focus on the latest email from Bran, but the low murmur of Rylen’s voice was sending tingles up her spine, as though he were intentionally trying to seduce her with that northern lilt.

Maybe he was. He was about the only man who hadn’t immediately distanced himself when he’d found out who and what she was. That morning he’d clearly still wanted her. Even if he hadn’t outright said it, it was in the way he looked at her and flirted with her, even after she’d put a hard stop to anything more than that kiss. He even respected her request not to talk more about it. They hadn’t since. 

“Karner reports nothing of note in your rooms.” 

She swirled in her chair to face him. “My rooms?” 

“Last night, I said I’d check more carefully this morning. I asked Karner to do it while you were on your call so not as not to disturb you.”

He’d followed through on a promise. It was small, but still her heart fluttered and she found herself lacking the ability to form words. “That means…more than you know.”

He nodded once. “I take my commitments seriously.”

“Well, thank you, Templar.”


	5. Chapter 5

One of the newer Templars, Captain Delisle, waited outside Effie’s door, straightening as he approached. He’d been called down to go over the security plan for the following week’s diplomatic event. It’d have been a disaster had he not gotten wind of the event and intervened.

While he’d been downstairs, he’d left Geddes with Effie, giving the man strict instructions not to leave her. Not that Geddes ever would. As much of a gossip as the man could be, he was one of the few people Rylen would trust with his life. He was the only one who really knew Rylen’s background and where he came from. The two of them had made it out of the Sheaves, thanks to the military.

Very few others did.

He paused with his hand on the door handle. “All good in there?” 

“Yes, ser. They sound as though they are having oodles of fun.” Her heavily accented Common drew out the ‘oo’ sound.

“Oodles?” As she nodded, a burst of laughter came from the closed door. Rylen lifted an eyebrow. “Have they been on like that the entire time?” 

“Pretty much,” Delisle shrugged.

This would be interesting, Rylen thought as he opened the door.

The scene in front of him was fairly innocent. Effie leaned against a table on the far wall. One arm was wrapped around her midsection and the other held a glass of wine against her chest. Her smile was wide, stretching almost entirely across her face, and he’d be a liar if he said it didn’t make his heart beat faster. When her eyes reached his, he knew there was a fair chance he would be well and truly lost to her. A happy Effie was the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld.

“Clacher! You’re just in time,” Geddes welcomed him with a lift of a glass of what Rylen hoped was water. It had better be.

Rylen closed the door behind him. “In time for what?” 

“Happy hour, min!”

Effie was softly smiling at him when his eyes made their way back to her. She nodded at an open cabinet nearby, liquor bottles. “May I get you a drink, Lieutenant Colonel? I have a fine Starkhaven whisky.” 

“I’ll pass.” 

“Verra fine!” Geddes cheered as he lifted his glass. “Have some.” 

When Effie lifted her eyebrows, Rylen sighed, “One finger.” 

She gave him that same soft smile as she set her glass down and reached for a bottle. 

“I canna believe you dinna tell her we known each other since we was wee bairns.”

Effie glanced over her shoulder at him as paused with the bottle in her hand. “Captain Geddes told some of the most fascinating stories.” 

That was the moment Rylen wished he had asked anyone else to keep an eye of Effie. Geddes and his blasted big mouth. “Has he now?”

Effie smiled cryptically, then turned back to finish pouring him a drink.

“Hey Clacher, remember that time—”

“Geddes,” he sharply cut the man off.

The other man’s eyes danced. “I already told her, min.”

“He did,” Effie confirmed as she crossed the room to hand him his drink. He stiffened at the comment, self-conscious of what she meant by that. But when she handed him the drink, her fingers brushed his and she again smiled. It was the most smiles he’d seen from her since they met. “Seems like you two had quite a bit of fun.” 

“Fun,” Rylen lightly huffed, “As fun as growing up poor could be.”

A knock on the door interrupted and Rylen took the few steps back to it and opened it, unsurprised to find Delisle at the door. “Captain Geddes, ser, the colonel would like to see you at once.” 

Geddes jumped to his feet. “Got to go, mighty thanks for the drink, Madam Prez.”

“Take care, Captain,” Effie told him. Rylen, for his part, just nodded at the man as he passed.

When the door was pulled shut behind him, they fell into silence. Rylen glanced at Effie to find her gazing at him curiously. She picked her wine glass back up and took a slow sip, so Rylen did the same with his drink.

“I admire you, you know,” she finally said, setting her glass back down beside her. 

Rylen shook his head. It wasn’t what he’d thought she’d say, but he couldn’t have her misunderstanding. “There’s nothing to admire.” 

“How can you say that?” 

“Without Brother Gilead’s help, I’d be a criminal. Or worse.” 

She took several steps forward and rested her hands on the back of the couch. “You aren’t though. You’re—”

“What? A high school dropout? Only reason I got my diploma was so I could join the military. I am nobody, Lady Hawke.”

He’d thrown on that last bit to point out how different their stations were and she snapped her head back as though he’d struck her. She blinked at him several times before she softly said, “I don’t know who you think I am, Templar.”

“You’re the president of Kirkwall, a noble woman, and far too good for the likes of me,” he sighed as he crossed to a chair and settled himself in it. 

She remained silent, watching him brood. It didn’t escape him that she knew about his background and instead of shutting down or sending him away, she’d told him she admired him. She didn’t judge him for it and Rylen had no clue what to do with that.

Her soft footfall reached his ears and he glanced up to find her standing in front of him. “You’re sitting in my chair again.”

“Am I?” he frowned as he looked down at the chair. He was certain she preferred the other.

“Yes.” The word had slipped out low and…husky. He glanced up at her, but her eyes had already dropped to his lips and were roaming further down…ah, now he understood.

He spread his legs slightly. “Maybe I’m hoping for a repeat of last time.” 

“Oh?”

Rylen teasingly patted his lap in response.

She lifted her eyebrows and this time, he didn’t miss the desire in her eyes. Her nostrils flared and she took a deep breath, before she lifted a finger to her ear and held it there. “Is that still on?” 

Right, his earpiece.

It was on the table next to him within seconds. That had to have been the fastest he’d removed it in his life. 

She approached with steady steps and he held his breath when she bent forward. The drink he’d barely had two sips of was removed from his hand and she set it down on the table next to the earpiece. Then she planted her legs on either side of his and lowered herself all the way down onto his lap.

His heart pounded in his chest and he swallowed, the sound loud in his ears, as they gazed at each other. 

Then she ever so slowly lifted her hand and brushed her fingers against his lips and down his chin. “I am a woman who desires you. The rest doesn’t matter.”

The lyrium inside him stirred to life, sending a shiver down his spine. The lyrium—and something else—something more fragile threatened to beat right out of his chest and into her hands. Rylen’s eyes closed to hide the truth of just how much power she wielded over him…and just how close he was to admitting it.

Her fingers more boldly traced his lower lip and then the lines of the tattoo on his chin. They continued their path down along his neck until they reached the neckline of his jacket. 

She tightened her fingers into the fabric and paused.

Rylen opened his eyes to find her staring at him with an intensity that matched the flames already raging inside him. When he gripped her waist, her eyelashes fluttered and her mouth dropped open. He wanted to taste her again, but she was in control here. He’d meet her wherever she wanted to take it.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she held his gaze as she started to drag the zipper of his jacket down. When she’d unzipped it, she pushed it back over his shoulders. “Take this off.”

Getting it off was awkward, but finally he managed to pull it off over his head. He’d hardly tossed it to the side when she tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt. “This too.”

She helped him pull it over his head, leaving him bared before her. 

Rylen swallowed, oddly self-conscious under her inscrutable gaze. She started to trace the lines of the tattoos on his chest with her fingertips, setting the lyrium in him on fire and sending blood rushing down to his crotch. He clenched his fists, fighting the need to pull her tighter against him, to feel her body on his bare skin, and blew out a breath.

She lifted her eyes back to his. “Are you okay?” 

“Aye, I think I am.”

She ran her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and then down his arms, pausing at the bands around his biceps. “I want to know about your tattoos.” 

“And I’m glad to tell you, but now is not the time.” 

Her eyebrows lifted. “Why not?”

He lifted his in return. “Tell me that’s not a real question.”

The hint of a smile appeared on her face and she slid off his lap. The sense of loss was immediate, as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. He reached for her, but she stepped back.

“Do you want to see mine?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve tattoos?” 

Effie nodded. His breath caught as he imagined what her tattoos might look like. He’d never have guessed she was hiding ink under all those layers and a facade of being perfectly put together. “Prove it,” he said, echoing her own words to him the day they’d met.

She gave him as a sultry smile as she slowly began to untuck her shirt. Once she had, as equally as slowly, she lifted her hands to start to unbutton her shirt. He was mesmerized by the slice of pale skin that peeked through the black silk of her shirt with each undone button. 

When she was about halfway down, she turned away. Rylen’s groan must have been audible as she looked over her shoulder at him with that same seductive look, before she allowed her shirt to fall from her shoulders. It caught halfway down her arms, but Rylen was awestruck by the vivid black letters inked across her back. Or at least, he thought they were letters, but they weren’t Common. The indecipherable words were topped by a black arrow up her neck that pointed toward her head

He leaned forward and tugged her hips to move her closer so he could get a better look.

She stumbled slightly and he tightened his grip on her hips. The letters were definitely not any he recognized. “What does it say?” 

Her back arched as she looked over her shoulder at him again. “Now is not the time.” 

“Nae, it’s not,” he agreed, pulling her shirt from her arms and dropping it on the floor next to his. 

He guided her back down to his lap and pushed her upper body forward. Her ass rubbed against his crotch, eliciting a groan from each of them. Rylen ran his hands up her back with flat palms, reveling in the feel of her skin against the roughness of his hands. Her skin was as soft as he’d imagined.

He pulled the hair tie from her hair, letting the dark locks fall free. He brushed it over her shoulder, then bent to press his lips to the base of her neck, pulling her body more tightly against his as he did.

Her skin against his shot fire through him, every part of him alive with the feeling of her.

He wrapped his arms around her, one hand on her breast and another sliding between her legs. He trailed his lips up her neck to her ear before he ran his teeth along the sensitive skin just behind it, triumph surging through him as she cried out for more.

He wanted to know what she sounded like when she came.

There would be time enough to explore every inch of her body…later. For now, he needed too much to give her release. He fumbled one handed with the fastening of her slacks until she pushed his hands away and undid it herself. He slipped his hand inside, brushing past already damp curls to the wet heat between her legs.

Her head dropped back onto his shoulder with a low moan as he slipped a finger inside her, her back arching as a spasm ran through her body. He nipped her ear and swirled his tongue along the outer shell as he dipped his finger in deeper, reveling in the tight heat of her body adjusting itself around him. His other hand he slid further up her body and cupped her breast, before teasing the nipple between his fingers.

“Rylen…” She’d never said his name before and it threw fuel on the already combusting flame.

He slipped another finger inside her. With one hand she gripped his forearm and the other had clamped onto his leg, giving herself purchase to grind against his palm.

Her ass moving against him was doing wondrous things for his erection, but he ignored it, determined to bring her to completion right here on his lap. He rolled her earlobe between his teeth and then husked, “I canna wait to spread you wide and taste you”—a convulsion rocked through her—“but first, I want to hear you.”

“I…” she moaned as he picked up the pace of his thrusting. “I’m so close.” 

He might not know the signs of her body that well yet, but he desperately wanted to learn more. He ran his tongue down her neck to her shoulder and brushed his teeth against the sensitive skin there. “What do you need?”

“To come—” she broke off with a groan as he squeezed her nipple between his fingers. “Please…” 

He didn’t hold back as he returned his mouth to her ear. “Then come for me.”

Her entire body stiffened as she held her breath. Rylen ran his teeth along the shell of her ear and she softly groaned as her body began to quake beneath him. He kept a steady pace, working her through her orgasm.

When she finally slumped against him, he slid his hand out of her slacks. Her earthy scent filled the air, tightening his already uncomfortably stiff erection. He slid his arm under her legs and cradled her against his chest as he walked rigidly toward the bedroom.

The door was shut, of course it was, but he managed to get it opened without disrupting her. Once inside the room, he pulled back the blanket and laid her down. A quick removal of her slacks and shoes was all it took before he pulled the blanket over her and headed back toward the sitting.

“Rylen?” Her voice, languorous in her pleasure, stopped him as he reached the door. 

“Hmm?” 

“Will you stay with me?”

“Gladly.” He pushed the door closed and locked it, before kicking off his shoes and socks and climbing into bed next to her. He slid one arm beneath her neck and wrapped the other around her, holding her close as her breathing evened toward sleep.

When he was fairly certain she was at last asleep, he pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathed her in, and wondered if there could be more for them.


	6. Chapter 6

When Persephone woke, she was tucked against Rylen’s chest, his arms surrounding her. A sense of contentedness…of wholeness surrounded her. His chest lifted and fell in front of her gaze and she lifted her eyes to his face. In the waning sunlight his face was shadowed, but she could sense that he was awake.

“Were you watching me sleep?”

“Aye.” He brushed wild hair from her face and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “You are so beautiful.” 

“Stop it,” she admonished, burying her face in his chest. 

In response, he trailed his fingers up her spine to the base of her neck and then back down. Persephone arched her back toward him and was surprised to discover he was still wearing trousers. “Why do you still have clothes on?”

“You never took them off.”

She lifted her eyebrows as she glanced back up at him. “Shall we remedy that?” 

Her hands slid down toward the fastening of his trousers, but he captured her wrists. “You dinna have to.”

“Maybe I want you naked, Templar.”

“Do you now?” 

“Oh, yes.” She tugged her wrists out of his grasp and this time he let her reach his trousers. She narrowed her eyes as she came across the buttons. “Buttons?” 

Rylen chuckled. “I wondered what you’d think of that.” 

“Seriously?”

He nodded and then rolled onto his back. “It’ll be faster if I—”

Persephone swatted his hands away. “I don’t think so.”

“Hmm? Why not?” 

“I want to enjoy unwrapping you.” 

He lifted an eyebrow. “Am I a gift?”

“Of the highest quality.” 

He started to shake his head as though he didn’t believe her, but then he caught himself. Rylen adjusted the pillow and placed his hands behind his head, giving himself a better view. He teased, “Then by all means, continue.” 

Persephone wet her lips as she pushed herself up to a seat. She glanced back at his face, his pale eyes already darkening and his nostrils flaring in anticipation of what she was about to do. As she slowly started to undo the buttons of his trousers, she held his gaze, only dropping it when she’d finished the buttons.

Her eyes quickly rose back to meet his. “I assumed you were one of those who didn’t wear anything at all under there.” 

He didn’t do much more than shrug and lift his hips to help her drag the trousers down. She tossed them toward the foot of the bed and shifted to her knees. She ran one hand up his thigh, close to the outline of his obvious erection in his boxer briefs, but not touching. He sucked in a breath and his hips jerked lightly as she bypassed his crotch, running her hand further up his body to his ridged abdomen. His body was hot and firm, tempting her as she explored the lines of his chest. His nipples were a dark, rich brown, stiffened by her touch. 

She bent and pressed her lips to the center of his chest. He inhaled sharply and his hands flew out from behind his head, palms open wide as though surrendering, before he curled them into fists and again rested them next to his head.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she flirted, darting her tongue out to swipe another taste.

“I doubt that.” He slightly cleared his throat. “Verra much.”

“Oh?” 

“Your touch is enough to make me—” he blew out a breath as she flattened her palms against his chest.

Her hands roamed down the sides of his body, back to his trim waist. In the short time she’d removed his trousers, his erection had grown even more. Persephone captured her lower lip between her teeth as she glanced back up at him. “Make you what?”

He swallowed. “Suffer.” 

“I make you suffer?” 

“Most exquisitely,” he was quick to assure her. 

At the admission, Persephone returned her mouth to his chest. She took her time, reveling in the taste of his skin on her lips and the smoothness of it under her hands. His breathy groans when she teased his firm nipples only slowed her attentions. Having a man like Rylen so willing beneath her…well, she wanted to take full advantage of exploring his glorious body, especially because it was so temporary.

It doesn’t have to be, a tiny piece of her soul whispered. She held onto that hope as she nibbled her way down his abdomen, savoring every sharp inhale, every tensing muscle, and every beautiful sound he made. 

At last she reached his underwear, the dark boxer briefs doing little to hide his now sizable erection. Persephone took it slow, as she’d taken everything else, by rubbing her hands over it through his briefs. His hips rocked toward her hand as though involuntarily moving on their own accord. She looked up and found him with his eyes squeezed shut and fists squeezed tightly at his sides.

She pressed a kiss to his erection, earning a sigh from him. “Yes, Effie.” 

A warm sensation flooded through her at the light praise. She rubbed her hand over his hardness once more and his legs fell open, giving her the sense he’d given himself entirely to her mercy.

Persephone hooked her fingers in the band of Rylen’s briefs and, ever so gently, pulled them over his erection and down, removing them completely and adding to the clothing already piled on the floor.

Only then did she turn her full attention to his cock, pointing proudly up his body. She laid out her stomach next to him and at last took him in hand, taking the opportunity to explore every inch—of which there were plenty—of him. She gave several experimental strokes with one hand while the other cupped his balls.

“Maker, Effie,” he cursed with a long groan. She’d never heard him take the Maker’s name in vain and it was a triumph to know she even could. 

A drop of precome glistened at the tip, catching the last of the day’s sunlight. She wet her lips and decided to stop delaying, leaning forward to flatten her tongue against the velvety head of him. He shifted his hips as he strained toward her mouth, but aside from that subtle movement, he waited for her to do what she wanted. That patience was rewarded with a soft kiss and then swept her tongue around the head, lingering on the sensitive underside with a few light flicks.

Rylen tensed as she slid her down all the way down to the base and then back up with a long, slow lick. She teased him then, alternating between quick licks and kisses and slower ones, where she took her time savoring him. His breath grew labored and his body more taut with each pass of her tongue.

When she peeked up at his face, his eyes were squeezed shut, a deep furrow between his brows, and mouth open. She stroked him and asked, “You don’t want to watch?” 

After a deep inhale, he met her eyes. “I willna last if I do.” 

“Perhaps I don’t want you to.” 

“But—” he cut off with a groan as she tightened her grip and twisted her hand around him.

“It’s hardly sunset. We have all night.” 

“That we do.” His chuckle rumbled through him. 

Effie shifted to a more comfortable position between his legs, once more taking hold of his cock with a firm grip. She held Rylen’s gaze as she wrapped her lips around him and sucked him into her mouth. His eyelashes fluttered as he fought to keep his eyes open, but he did, watching as she worked her mouth along his length, pushing him deeper with each bob of her head. When she at last had him as deep as she could take him, she groaned.

He abandoned the bedding. One hand reached for her face and brushed her hair back giving him an unhindered view of what she was doing. It wasn’t long before she settled into a rhythm, working the shaft with her hand as she focused her mouth on the head. Rylen’s hips lifted from the mattress and his other hand joined the first, hands twisting in her hair as he started to rock against her mouth.

She scraped her fingernails against his inner thigh, eliciting more sounds of pleasure from Rylen. If the tension of his body and the pulsing of his cock were anything to go by, he was close. She cupped his balls, rolling them in her hand as she increased her suction.

Rylen’s entire body stiffened. “Effie, I’m…I’m gonna come.”

She kept her rhythm and with several short thrusts and a groan deep from his throat, he released.

Persephone worked him through his orgasm, slowing her pace until gently sliding him out of her mouth. She wiped her mouth against the bedsheets before crawling up the bed. Did he enjoy contact afterwards? He certainly enjoyed touch at other times, but she didn’t know about now. She decided against it, choosing to stretch out on her side next to him as he came down.

He didn’t let her stay distant long. Instead, he reached for her, tugging her into his arms, and enveloped her, pressing kisses to the top of her head as he held her against his chest. “Effie, that was—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she stopped him, and gave him a kiss on his chest. 

He twisted his fingers in her hair before gently pulling it so her face tipped toward his. As they gazed at each other, Persephone’s heart insisted beating harder and louder, a rhythmic _thump-thump-thump_ pounding in her ears. He shook his head. “I dinna kin how I got so lucky to have you.” 

She cast her eyes downward and heat spread across her cheeks. HIs hand moved from the back of her head to her chin. “Look at me.”

She did. The wild thumping of her heart only grew as they held each other’s gaze, but he didn’t say anything else. He simply bent toward her to kiss the top of her head, then gently pushed her onto her back. He pressed his lips to the tip of her nose. “My turn.”

“Do you not need some time?” 

“Nae,” he told her as he worked his way down her neck. When he reached the divot at the base, he used his tongue to give her a preview of what he planned to do with the rest of her body. 

And he did, ever so slowly. By the time he’d pushed her legs apart and settled between them, scraping his stubble against her inner thigh, a noise escaped her that sounded remarkably like a whine. 

He brushed his fingers between her legs and pleasure tremored through her body. “Impatient, are we?”

“No.” His chuckle rumbled the mattress and she clenched, desperate for more that he wasn’t giving. She quickly corrected, “Maybe.”

A mischievous look appeared in Rylen’s eyes as he smirked, repeating the words she’d said to him not too long before, “We have all night.”

She dropped her head back, pressing it into the pillow as she groaned. Thankfully, he didn’t tease her much longer as he finally lowered his mouth. The talent of his fingers was nothing compared to the talent of his tongue. It was almost no time at all before her entire body was wound tight as a bowstring and all she could focus on was the pleasure his mouth—and the fingers he’d slipped inside her—wrought.

He kept her hips firmly pinned to the bed when she tried straining closer to his mouth, taking his time as he pushed her ever closer to the completion. Time slowed as hovered on the edge of the precipice, but he held her back. A mixture of his name and a groan spilled from her lips; all she could think about was the way his mouth and hands moved.

Finally, when she was certain she would die from want, he increased the pressure.

Persephone felt as though she were flying as she came, harder than she ever had before. Convulsions rocketed through her and she arched off the bed as she tightened around his fingers inside her and her thighs around his head. He didn’t stop whatever it was he was doing until she started to pull away, the pleasure too intense for another moment.

He gently kissed her one last time, the sensation making her entire body tremble, before he moved back up the bed next to her.

Tiny shockwaves continued to rock through her every so often in the aftermath. Rylen ran his hand softly along the side of her body, heightening the experience, but he otherwise waited for her to return.

When she at last opened her eyes to look, he gazed down at her, his eyes dark with passion. He tangled one hand in her hair and lowered his mouth to kiss her, and Persephone pressed her body closer to him. She reached for his cock, wrapping her palm around him.

Rylen broke the kiss. “More?” 

“I want you inside me.” 

“Condoms?” 

She gestured half-heartedly at the bedside table beyond him. “Drawer.” 

He kissed the tip of her nose and then rolled over. She shivered, suddenly cold with him no longer by her side. It was mere seconds before he’d rolled back toward her, condom packet in hand.

While he opened it and sheathed himself with the condom, Persephone pushed herself to her knees.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he teased.

She wrapped her palm back around his cock and then straddled him. Pleasure flickered across his face as she stroked him and then positioned herself above him. His hands lifted to grip her hips when she rubbed the tip of his cock against her wetness. Then ever so slowly, she started to sink down onto him.

They both sucked in sharp breaths as he at last slid inside her. She lifted her hips and then sank down again, repeating the motion to take more of him each time. When he was at last fully inside her, she paused to give herself time to adjust to every inch of him.

Rylen’s hands slid up her sides to cup her breasts. He played with them, lightly pinching her nipples at the same time she shifted her hips and his cock moved inside her. She splayed her hands across his chest and bent over him, running her tongue along the soft underside of his jaw as she moved her hips once more. 

He turned his face to meet her lips, deeply kissing her as she started to grind against him. His cock hit places inside her that had her body alight with pleasure once more. She broke the kiss, arching her back as she found a steady rhythm of sliding off until only the tip of his cock was still inside her, then all the way back down. He captured one nipple with his mouth, his talented tongue finding all new ways of giving her pleasure.

It wasn’t long before she felt the familiar coiling in low in her abdomen. She was so focused on herself, he surprised her when he wrapped his arms around her and flipped her over. She landed with her back on the bed with him still inside her.

He settled his forearms on either side of her head, cradling her between his arms, as he slipped ever so slowly all the way out of her. The intensity of his gaze unnerved her but she couldn’t look away, nor did she want to. Something in that gaze heightened every sensation as he just as slowly eased back inside her. A breath caught in her chest as a warmth erupted in her chest. This thing happening between them was supposed to be physical, no more than amazing sex, but it had gone beyond that. That realization should scare her, yet…

She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and her legs around his waist, matching him thrust for thrust. She adjusted her hips as they moved together, the angle of his cock pushing her closer toward completion with every plunging stroke.

At last, her eyes fluttered closed as her orgasm washed over her, flowing from deep within her like a tidal wave. She cried out his name as she succumbed to the sensation, letting the sheer intensity of it pull her under as her body pulsed around him.

Rylen’s thrusts became faster and more erratic and he at last dropped his head against her shoulder. “Oh, Effie,” he groaned as buried himself deep inside with a groan. A shudder ran through him and he thrust several more times before collapsing on top of her.

Persephone ran her fingers up through his hair and his body trembled in response. He breathed heavily into her neck for several moments, until he pushed himself up to gaze at her.

He cupped her face with one hand, running his thumb over her lips before lowering his mouth to kiss her. Maybe he’d meant for it to be soft, but it quickly turned as intense as their lovemaking. Her chest heaved when he finally pulled away and slid out of her, both of them sharply inhaling at the loss.

“Dinna go anywhere,” he told her before he rolled off the bed to dispose of the condom.

She didn’t move and before she knew it, the bed dipped under his weight once more as he tugged her toward him and enveloped her in his arms.

It was comfortable. Safe. She didn’t need him to, but now that she’d had him, she wanted him to stay. She wanted to wake up in his arms. An unbidden thought popped into her head, that as long as he was by her side, she could be happy.

She pressed her lips to his chest, his arms tightened around her, and Persephone drifted to sleep believing that she’d found the happiest place in the world.


	7. Chapter 7

The view he had on opening his eyes the next morning was Effie’s dark hair, looking more brown than black in the warm light of sunrise. He tightened his arm at her waist and a soft sigh escaped her lips as she shifted, nestling tighter into his body. Her ass moving against his crotch made him aware of how hard he already was for her. They’d made love all night and still he wanted more of her.

He nuzzled the back of her head and she inhaled, lengthening her body in a morning stretch. Rylen kissed the soft skin behind her ear and then ran his tongue around the shell of her ear, taking pleasure in the way she shuddered in his arms. 

“Good morning,” he husked, slipping an arm back beneath her head. The other hand he let trail lazily down over the swell of her hip until it rested against her inner thigh. Effie rolled slightly to her back, giving him better access between her legs. He kissed her ear again. “Is that an invitation?” 

She hadn’t yet opened her eyes, but her lower lip caught between her teeth as she nodded. He didn’t hesitate. The earthy scent of her desire had already filled his senses once more. He trailed his fingers along her slit, slick with need, as he grazed his mouth along the smooth expanse of her neck. 

He teased her, enjoying the sharp inhales and throaty exhales until he couldn’t wait any longer. He urged her onto her stomach, making sure she was comfortable before trailing kisses down her spine. He continued to tease her with one hand as he reached for the box of condoms next to the bed with the other. Once he’d rolled the condom over his erection, he rejoined her. She angled her hips to give him better access and he slowly pressed himself inside her.

He exhaled sharply and dropped his forehead to her shoulder to give himself a chance to get his breath since she’d once more stolen it from him. The sensation of her wrapped around him was better than anything he could think of at that moment. When he was ready to move, he pressed his body against hers then slid his arms under her shoulders and intertwined their fingers together.

She stiffened as though surprised, but quickly relaxed under him. “Yes,” she groaned before pressing her face into the pillow.

As he took her, he spread kisses along her shoulders and upper back, pausing every so often to taste her skin and scrape his teeth along a sensitive spot. Every time he did, her body trembled in response, encouraging him to give her more. Her fingers tightened against his and he matched the movement of his tongue with each plunging stroke he took inside her.

She was noisier this morning than she had been last night, and Rylen would do anything to hear how loud she could be when she came. 

“Louder, Effie,” he murmured as he ground more forcefully into her. “Let me hear you.”

She dropped her head back as she arched her back, opening herself up for him to drive deeper inside her. “I don’t think I can.” 

“You can.” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and rolled it between his teeth. 

“Rylen…” 

“Louder,” he instructed. She tried, his name on her lips a little louder than before. “That’s better. Just like that.”

With each little spasm, she was closer and closer to completion. He’d already learned the tells of her body, staving off his own pleasure as he focused on making her come. His words of praise tightened her fingers in his, twisting the sheets underneath.

Then he heard that hitch in her breath and he gently bit the soft skin at her shoulder. She clenched deep within her and cried out his name as she shuddered around him in completion.  
She was too good, too perfect, and it wasn’t long before he felt the coiling inside and tightening of his balls. He thrust hard inside her one more time as he came with a loud groan and buried his face in her neck.

He caught his weight before he could crush her, but allowed himself a moment to breathe in the scent of their lovemaking that lingered in the air around them. He kissed her neck, sweat-dampened and slightly salty, before rolling off her. Her hair covered her face and he swept it out of the way, reveling in the pleasure-induced exhaustion he found there.

“I’ll be right back.” He slid off the bed to take care of the condom. When he exited the bathroom, he found her wrapped in that tempting black robe and heading for the sitting room. “Done with me already?” 

The smile on her face as she glanced over her shoulder at him set his heart beating faster. “Hardly, but I need my phone.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“How else does one take a day off?” 

His already thumping heart leapt at that. “You are?” 

“As much as I can manage.” She slipped through the doors and was back within moments, tapping away at the screen. She locked it and smiled at him once more. “There. Bran will be furious, but…I’ll deal with it later.” 

Rylen pulled her into his arms and trailed several fingers down the neckline of her robe. “This robe…” 

“Mhmm?” Her mouth opened as he reached the lowest point, right between her breasts. He teased her, slowly exploring the gentle swells.

“Are you always naked under it?” 

“Perhaps.” At the smirk that appeared on the edge of her lips, he couldn’t resist dipping his head to kiss her. Rylen couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun with a partner. Most of his experience was of the releasing steam variety: quick and to the point, not a lot of room for anything else.

But with Effie, he wanted to spend every moment in her arms, making love to her, learning about her, and just—

_Blast_. 

He was falling for her.

She intertwined their fingers, holding their hands against her heart, and smiled up at him. “You know, I am absolutely famished. We skipped dinner.”

He winked, “I had you instead.”

“I’ll call for breakfast,” she said with the shake of her head. “You may have the first shower, if you like.” 

“I’d rather you join me.” 

She playfully rolled her eyes. “We’d never make it out.” 

“That’s the plan.” 

“Go.” She pushed him lightly toward the bathroom.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “I’ll go for now. But know that I’m nowhere near finished with you.”

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. “I’m looking forward to it, Templar.” 

***

They showered separately, ate breakfast together, and spent the rest of the morning in bed. It wasn’t all sex, though there was plenty of it. 

He relaxed on his back, watching Effie as she studied the tattoos on his arms and chest. It was a new experience to have her fingers trace the lines he’d gotten all those years ago with a reverence no one had ever shown the ink on his body. They were no longer just a symbol of the past he’d barely escaped, but a part of him.

“Will you tell me about them now?” She at last broke the silence that had enveloped them with the question he’d been waiting for. 

He took in a slow breath. Somehow it would be easier if he didn’t have to look her in the eye. The hand that’d been resting against her hip tugged her against his body. She obliged and curled up next to him, her head on his chest. “How much did Geddes tell you?” 

“Not as much as you did.” 

“Me?” He couldn’t remember telling her anything.

“He only told me stories about when you two were younger. Not about…the rest of it.”

“Ah.” He’d have to apologize to Geddes. The man might have a big mouth, but that didn’t mean he’d been giving away Rylen’s secrets.

“So what’s the story?”

The insecurities of his birth again arose within him. Would she reject him once she knew the truth? That he’d been in and out of juvenile detention centers, following in the footsteps of his older brothers, until he met a Chantry brother named Brother Gilead who showed him he could do more. That a life of crime wasn’t the only option for someone like him. 

“Where I come from…” he paused with a sigh. “I’m the youngest and I wanted to be like my older brothers. They all work with the Carta.”

She didn’t say anything, but her thumb stroked soothingly against his collarbone.

“I was young, but they let me help out. I wanted to set myself apart so I started getting the tattoos. Took awhile, but every copper I saved went toward them.”

Her eyelashes fluttered against his skin as her fingers idly started tracing the tattoos again. “So what changed?” 

“Brother Gilead. He ran a program in the neighborhood. Had me do a few jobs around the local chantry and asked me questions while I did. I liked talking with him, so I kept going around.” Rylen shrugged. “Eventually, I was there every day and I realized there could be more to my life than doing what my brothers did.” 

“So you joined the military?” 

“Not at first. I’d dropped out of school, so he helped me study for my diploma. Then I did.”

“How long before the Templars picked you up?” 

“Fairly quick.” 

She tipped her face up towards his. “They knew you were something special.” 

“Am I?” 

“Oh yes.”

That heavy thumping in his chest started back up. He cleared his throat and ran his hand to her back. “And what about your tattoos?”

She rested her chin on her hand and she gazed at him. “Courtesy of my own teenage rebellion.” 

“What language is it?” 

“Old Avvar. It’s a quote from one of the sagas. I was a…rather difficult teen. My parents sent me to live at a hold with a family friend.”

He lifted his head to get a better look at her. “Really?” 

She nodded. “Without Cairnhold, I would be in a very different place. They straightened me out.”

“Hard to imagine that.” 

“I assure you I needed it,” she laughed. “They helped me become who I am today.” 

“I’m thankful for that,” he told her as he ran his hand through her hair, cupping the back of her head.

She smiled and pressed herself forward, meeting him halfway. Their kiss had once more started down a much steamier path, when a shrill tone reverberated through the room.

“What the—”

“Phone.” She rolled away from him, scrambling at the bedside table to grab the handset to her landline. “Speak.”

Her face was solemn and introspective as she listened to the person on the other end of the line. At last she nodded, and then as if realizing only Rylen could see her, added, “Understood.” He held his breath as she glanced at him, a frown deepening on hers. “I’ll be down in ten.”

His good mood crashed and burned. It’d have to end sooner or later, he knew that, but they’d not even made it to lunch.

The phone clicked back into place and Effie was already rounding the bed toward the bathroom. He didn’t try to stop her. Whoever was on the other side of that phone call had told her something important. As much as he’d prefer her in bed with him the rest of the day, she was the president of Kirkwall. She had more important duties than he could ever hope to be.

He quickly donned his uniform and by the time she came out, he was ready to go, waiting by the door. Her eyes flickered over him before they met his. There was disappointment there, but she wouldn’t say it out loud.

Nor would he.

“Ready?”

He nodded. “Lead the way.”


	8. Chapter 8

They found a steady rhythm in the days that followed. During daylight hours, he was her bodyguard, dutifully at her side as she worked. By night, however, he was her lover, their limbs tangled together in pleasure and something more intimate. Neither of them ever spoke of it, but something had happened that night they first came together, something intense and all too terrifying. 

Persephone could almost believe that what they had was real.

Almost.

In fact, he was almost too good to be true. 

She’d begun to wonder how it was that he could waltz into her life one day as though he’d been custom built for her. As though someone out there had chosen him. She didn’t believe in the Maker, but she did believe there was more to his sudden appearance than he’d let on, there had to be. Particularly since everything had been on the edge of falling spectacularly apart.

He frowned at the screen of his laptop and then lifted his eyes to hers. Persephone almost looked away, but there was enough concern on his face that she didn’t. “What is it?” 

“Starkhaven sent two responses for the event tonight. Both yes.” 

“Both Vaels?”

He nodded. “A Goran and—”

“Sebastian,” Persephone finished with a loud sigh.

“You know him?” 

“He was in Kirkwall before the war. We worked together for a time, until he…” she hesitated. Did she really want to tell him about her falling out with the man?

“He what?” Rylen prompted her.

“He thought I mishandled something and that was the end of our working relationship. Turns out he was right.” 

Her heart thudded in her chest as Rylen studied her from a distance. He would ask, she knew he would. And he did, ever so gently asking, “What did you mishandle?” 

Persephone closed her eyes and swallowed, wishing that it were anyone else who had asked her. He was a Templar, of course he’d know what happened…after, at least.

She would be surprised if he still wanted to be with her once he found out.

“Anders,” she said at last in a voice that sounded too small to be hers.

“What about him?”

She looked down at her hands. “I let him go.” 

There was a brief moment of almost deafening silence and his voice sounded too loud in the aftermath. “What do you mean by ‘let him go’?” 

“Exactly as it sounds.” 

“I don’t follow.” 

Persephone sighed and looked back up at him. “I would not make him a martyr for his cause. So I let him go.”

“Instead of him becoming a martyr, you let him loose to head up an insurgency?” 

It was a question she’d asked herself plenty of times over the preceding months, but hearing it from him stung. Even if he was way off base. Well, better they end it now before they became too comfortable with each other.

Better they end it before he could break her heart.

She took a deep inhale and set her jaw as she rose to her feet. “I know that I’m responsible for what happened to Kirkwall and I am doing everything in my power to set it right.” Rylen shook his head in disappointment and it was as though a tiny knife scraped her heart. She lifted her chin. “You may leave now.”

Confusion replaced the disappointment. “What?” 

“Everyone in my life makes certain I know exactly how much I’ve failed my people. I don’t need it from you too.” 

He rose to his feet. “Effie...”

She held her position, refusing to allow herself to be swayed by sudden gentleness of his tone. “I have an event tonight, Lieutenant Colonel. If I have any hope of righting my wrongs, I need some time alone before then. So I’ll ask you again. Please leave.”

He gazed at her for another brief moment before shutting his laptop. “I’ll be just outside.” 

“Understood.” 

She stared at his back as he left. Only after the door had clicked shut behind him did she sink back into her seat and drop her head into her hands.

***

A break in the case had been exactly what Rylen was looking for, but he didn’t think he’d get it like that. He didn’t mean to admonish her for what she’d done, but it went against everything he thought he knew about the woman. For her to simply let Anders—a man she had limited contact with as it was—walk free after he’d begun a war…it made no sense.

The higher ups had been satisfied to get the confirmation that the man had in fact been alive, but Rylen needed more. He needed to know where Anders had gone.

Effie hadn’t spoken to him since she kicked him out of her office. When she emerged from her office at Bran’s insistence, just before the reception, she wore a striking knee-length dress in her signature black. Nor did she look at him as she led down the hallway to the parlor the small reception was held in. 

He’d been over the plans enough times that he knew them by heart. He’d even studied the photographs of all the attendees. Cullen had been invited as the commander of the ATN peacekeeping forces and Delisle was also in the room, in case someone with magic had slipped through, though he didn’t think they would. The security was high and he trusted the Kirkwall guard had done their due diligence this time. The only known mage who’d be at the event was Effie and she kept it tightly under wraps.

As she greeted the foreign leaders and dignitaries, Rylen hung back. Close enough to reach her if needed, but not so close he might interrupt the careful negotiations she was involved in. Though it didn’t look like any negotiation he’d ever seen, unless nobles and politicians did things differently.

Rylen tried not to stare at it as the ambassador from Markham, a man with thinning hair and a too wide smile, leaned toward Effie’s ear to whisper something he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

It wasn’t just him either. Rylen couldn’t help but notice all the different people who flirted with her or gave her lingering touches on her forearm, her elbow, her waist…and with all of them, she simply smiled and at times even flirted back.

The flirtations didn’t bother him. What bothered him is that he would never be the one to flirt with her in public like that. He was her bodyguard, relegated to watch from a distance.

When the prince of Starkhaven pulled her aside for a quiet conversation in a corner, Rylen let his gaze wander. Across the room, his sight landed on a man with pale eyes who was glaring in his direction.

Sebastian Vael.

Rylen turned away, activating his earpiece. “Delisle?”

“Ser?” Though she was across the room, her voice was as clear as if she were standing next to him.

“Can you keep an eye on President Hawke for me?” 

“At once.” Within moments, she moved through the crowd toward him. As soon as she was near, Rylen left his spot and crossed the room to where Vael was still glaring at Effie in the corner.

When Rylen was within hearing distance, the man said, “You are unlike her other guards.” 

Rylen ignored the comment. “Mr. Vael.” 

He looked at Rylen then. “It’s Prince Vael.”

“Prince Vael is currently speaking to President Hawke.”

He once again glared at the corner. “Goran’s no more than an usurper. I am the rightful heir of Starkhaven.”

“Is that glare for Goran then?” 

Vael’s nostrils flared and his jaw tightened. “And the woman who allows the farce to continue.”  
“How do you figure that?” 

“She’s fallen far from being Kirkwall’s champion. Fawning over the puppet prince proves it,” he all but snarled the words. It was clear from his tone and the tensing of his body how much anger the man had toward Effie. 

During the time Rylen had been banished from Effie’s office, he’d looked more into their relationship, aided by Geddes. After the war started, Vael left Kirkwall and whatever friendly ties they once had were severed. By Effie’s own admission it had been because of Anders, but that didn’t explain the man’s hatred. Did it?

“Why are you telling me this?” Rylen asked at last.

“You are unlike her other guards, as I said. You are also a Starkhavener.”

“So you want me to...what? Talk to her?” 

“If an attempt on her life didn’t knock sense into her, maybe her bodyguard could.” 

The hairs on the back of Rylen’s neck rose at the mention of an assassination attempt. How did he know about that? “What attempt on her life?” 

Vael’s eyes shifted toward him. “At that press event last week.”

“How do you know about that?” The palace had worked hard to keep any information from slipping out.

“I have my ways.” He shrugged. “Excuse me.”

As soon as Vael was out of earshot, Rylen passed on his suspicion that the man knew more than he let on about the intruder. It could be the break they’d been looking for, at least on that front. He still needed to figure out what was going on with Anders, his true purpose here.

When he turned around, Effie had left her corner and was in the middle of the crowd. A small circle had gathered around her, the diplomats and world leaders hanging on her every word as she spoke. He knew she was important, logically, and had even gotten glimpses through the phone calls he’d been privy to, but this was different. 

This was her life.

“It’s remarkable, isn’t it?” Cullen’s low voice mused from next to him.

“What is?” 

Cullen nodded at the room in front of them. “There’s a war raging outside the walls and they’re in here, acting like nothing has changed.” 

“It’s all to help Kirkwall.” 

“It still doesn’t feel quite real.” He lifted his lit-up phone to read the name flashing on the screen. “I need to take this.”

He was gone before Rylen could even tell him goodbye. His words lingered though, and Rylen agreed that it didn’t quite feel real. This was Effie’s life, at ease amongst the gilded and glittering, and Rylen was no more than her bodyguard, ever destined to float the fringes of her life. They might not notice the differences in their stations in life when it was just the two of them, but out here in the open? 

He was nobody. He would never be enough for her world.

For several more minutes, he watched her from a distance, glad for the time they did have together. Then he rejoined her at her side as she said her goodbyes with kisses on the cheeks of all the important people, before trailing along behind her, her ever faithful shadow, through halls and doorway back to her rooms.

He locked the door of the sitting room behind him and waited, but she continued on, toward her private rooms. When she was almost through the doors, he finally called out, “Effie.”

She paused, looking back over her shoulder at him and lifting her eyebrows in question. It was only a room, but it might have well been a chasm with how far away she now felt.

He swallowed. “Do I sleep out here?” 

The seconds she gazed at him were tense. She was slipping away and he was trying desperately to hold onto her for just a little longer. 

Relief flooded through him when she at last shook her head and disappeared inside her dark bedroom without a word.


	9. Chapter 9

For the first time in more than a week, Persephone woke alone.

It was then that she understood how completely a part of her life Rylen had become in so short a time. She told herself he was probably giving her space after their…argument wasn’t quite right, but he had hurt her and they hadn’t talked about it.

She had a quick shower and dressed before she pulled open the door to her sitting room. Noticing the blonde head of hair on the couch, her heart fell. “Karner?” 

The woman leapt up and spun around to greet her. “Madam President!” 

“When did you get here?” 

“Couple hours ago. Clacher had to get back to the Gallows.” 

Persephone’s heart dropped. Not only was he not with her, he wasn’t at the palace at all. He’d left without even a goodbye. “I see. Are you ready to go to my office then?” 

“Of course, my lady.” 

She smiled at Karner. She’d be pleasant enough to have around and wouldn’t be near as distracting as Rylen had been. And as distracting as he still continued to be.

The hurt from his disappearance began to fester inside her while she settled behind her desk and flipped open her laptop. He’d left her, as easily as everyone else ever had. She was a difficult woman to love, she knew that, but he’d made it seem possible that he really cared for her…

But he didn’t. In fact, he’d been pulling away from her. There was almost a desperation in the way they’d come together the previous night, as though he’d known he would be leaving.

She sighed and focused her attention on working through her emails, responding every so often to one that required her immediate attention. In no time at all, Bran stood inside the door of her office with a sour look on his face.

Persephone sighed and turned in her seat to face him. “What?” 

“You aren’t answering your phone.”

“My phone?” She frowned as she looked around her desk. Where was her cell? “I must have left it in my room.”

“Hmm,” he sniffed, “We’ve a call set up for you in ten minutes with a”—he frowned down at the tablet in his hands—“Lord Tryggvi Eiriksen of the Avvar.”

At the name, Persephone’s breath caught in her chest. Talk to Tryggvi? After all this time? What would she even say to him?

Bran either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and continued talking, “Brief is in your inbox. That’s all for today, but tomorrow you’ve got an audience with the nobility.”

“Great,” she sighed. The Kirkwall nobility was the last thing she needed to deal with right now, but she didn’t have much of a choice. “How long this time?” 

“All morning. Then Banns Geraghty and Davall arranged a separate meeting to go through—” Bran abruptly cut off. “Your call is now in nine minutes. We’ll discuss the banns later.”

“Thank you, Bran.”

He nodded and turned on his heel to leave. Persephone focused on the short brief, updating herself on Tryggvi’s life since they’d parted ways. He’d married the daughter of another holding’s lord several years after he came of age and soon after the man stepped down and Tryggvi became their new lord. She’d died almost five years ago and he’d been alone ever since, raising their two kids. The holding prospered under his rule and now he was looking outside the south for investment opportunities.

She’d have to convince him Kirkwall was worth it. And it would be again, as soon as the war was over.

Her desk phone rang twice before she lifted it to her ear. “Good morning.” 

“President Hawke.”

“Tryggvi.” 

“As I live and breathe.” His voice had lost all traces of youthfulness and now it was deep and rich. Deeper than Rylen’s, but lacking a certain levity that she’d come to adore.

“I could hardly believe it when my seneschal told me who the call was with.” 

“I’ve thought about it for years, Effie.”

She sucked in a sharp breath at the nickname. He’d been the last person to use that nickname for her—her family had long ago abandoned it, not that many of them were left now—but it sounded… _wrong_ on his tongue. 

“Why call now then?”

A silence stretched through the line. “It’d be nice to see you.”

“See me?” she repeated. Did he mean what she thought he meant? 

“That’s what I said.” 

“As in…come to Kirkwall?” 

“If I’m welcome.” 

“Is there a reason you wouldn’t be?” 

Tryggvi chuckled. “The way we left things…I’ve many regrets about that.” 

“It was a long time ago. I’ve forgotten it already.” 

“I haven’t.” 

Hesitation lingered at the back of her mind. Old flames didn’t simply call out of the blue for nothing…but maybe it was the help she’d been trying to get for her people. Maybe it was the gods finally listening, though they usually steered well clear of Kirkwall. “When were you thinking of a visit?” 

“Are you free for a meal tonight?” 

She blanched. “Did you say…tonight?” 

“I’m in Denerim. It’s a short flight.”

“I…” She considered saying no, but he was powerful as the ruler of an entire holding. His support could make the difference for Kirkwall. “That sounds like a lovely idea.”

“Brilliant. Our people can work out the details. Talking to you again has been tremendous, but seeing you…” She could sense his grin through the phone. “That’s something I’ve thought about a lot over the years. We’ll talk more then.” 

“I’ll see you tonight then.”

“‘Till tonight.” The line went dead.

Persephone gently set it back into the cradle and stared at it for several moments. When she glanced up, Karner’s head was visible over the top of her laptop, but she quickly popped back down to look engaged in her work. She wondered how much Karner knew about her and Rylen, and what the young woman was thinking.

It didn’t matter. Tryggvi might be an old flame, but tonight he’d be visiting as the lord of an Avvar holding, not as anything else.

Besides, Rylen was clearly putting some distance between them.

She picked the phone back up to tell Bran about Tryggvi’s impending visit. She’d have a few hours before she needed to get ready. Time to get to work.

***

He couldn’t get through the hallways of the palace fast enough. If he’d known that morning’s phone call would have had him away from Effie all day, he wouldn’t have answered. He would have gotten right back in bed and given himself as much time with her as he could. More importantly, he would have woken her and told her goodbye instead of texting her after he was already gone.

She’d never responded, and he didn’t blame her for that. It had been a poor move on his part. In his defense, he wasn’t used to having a partner he cared for. As futile as it was proving to be.

The palace guard told him she was at dinner with a newly arrived foreign leader. The plane had come from Denerim, in Ferelden, but that was all they told him. Worthless, as far as security went. That would be the first thing he fixed if—

If _what_? He got to stay in Kirkwall with her? The thought should have been humorous, but he didn't miss the hopeful whisper of heart that it could have been true.

Geddes leaned against the wall outside the formal dining room and pushed himself upright as Rylen approached. “Clacher.” 

“Geddes.” Rylen patted his hand against the man’s shoulder and reached for the door.

“I wouldna go in there, min.” 

He stiffened with his hand on the handle. “Why not?” 

“She’s at dinner with—” Geddes promptly cut off with a frown.

“With who?” Rylen pressed.

“I dinna his name. Some Avvar lord.” 

Avvar. She’d lived at a hold once and she’d told him herself they’d helped her when she was younger. That was all it was, he tried to convince himself, even as a pit settled in his stomach at what he’d find when he opened the door.

When he pushed it open, Effie had a large smile spread across her face and the man had his head thrown back in laughter. He was a large man, with long pale hair pulled back into a ponytail and the hint of age lining his face. Rylen didn’t think he was much older than himself, perhaps weathered by the harsh southern winters just as he’d be weathered by the northern sun. 

They both looked over at where Rylen now stood in the doorway, the smile immediately fell from Effie’s face. “Lieutenant Colonel Clacher. You’ve returned.”

It was clear she hadn’t expected him to come back tonight. Maybe at all. He pushed the door closed behind him. “I have.”

“Do you need something?” 

He frowned at her. “No. Merely resuming my duties, my lady.”

“I see.” She gazed at him only a second longer, before turning back to the man at the table with her.

No one else was in the room except the two of them, so he took up a spot next to the door. The Avvar man had studied him during the exchange with Effie and now he too turned his attention away.

The two of them chatted as palace employees brought course after course. Mostly politics and the current world events, but as the night dragged on, the conversation turned more personal as they reminisced on their shared history at one of the holdings.

Rylen might as well have been invisible and it was his own blasted fault.

When the dining pair had been served a post-dessert drink, Effie picked it up and swirled it around in the glass a few times, before fixing her gaze on the Avvar man. “Do you intend to tell me what prompted this visit?”

The man smiled and leaned forward in his seat. “You always saw right through me, Effie.” 

Rylen’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. He’d liked the intimacy of having a name for her that no one else used, and hearing from this other man’s mouth—another man who’d known her longer and who was socially her equal—settled uncomfortably inside him.

“You were the only one I ever wanted, but I let my father’s distrust drive us apart. I’ve regretted that every day since.”

The pit in his stomach sunk lower still. He wished he could see Effie’s face, at what she was thinking, but all he had was the back of her chair and the back of her head.

He didn’t move, he barely even breathed as the Avvar man reached for her hand. “Effie, you loved me once. Please consider me again.”

A knock on the door made them all jump. Rylen was quick to open it after he recovered from the surprise.

“You’ve a call, ser. Need you to come with me.” Rylen frowned at him, but the look on Geddes’s face was serious. 

He glanced over his shoulder at the two sets of eyes gazing at him. “Excuse me,” he told them, before following Geddes out into the hallway.

Geddes handed him a phone and Rylen quickly lifted it to his ear.

“Clacher,” Cullen greeted him. “You’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“What?”

“Vael gave us a lead and the upper brass want you to follow it.”

His stomach bottomed out. That was it, he was leaving. Any chance he’d hoped for with Effie was gone. “Understood.” 

“You’re on the afternoon flight to Markham. Come by in the morning and we’ll close you out.”

“Yes, ser.”

Cullen cleared his throat and briefly hesitated, before he asked, “Are you spending the night at the palace?”

“I dinna kin.”

“Well, if you don’t, I’d like to grab a drink before you head out.”

“I’ll let you know what I decide.”

“Alright. Thanks, Clacher.” 

Rylen handed the phone back to Geddes. There was no point in going back into the dining room, it would only make whatever was happening worse. “You loved me once,” the man had said. Had she never gotten over him, even after all these years? Is that why he’d come to Kirkwall so suddenly? Is that she’d…no. Those thoughts were no use to him.

He started toward Effie’s private rooms to give himself a chance to think.

“Hey Clacher, where you going?” 

“To wait for her.”

“I mean about the call.”

Blast. “To Markham. I leave tomorrow.” 

“Ack. That backwater?”

“It’s not all bad.” Rylen gave him a forced smile.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Geddes gave Rylen an awkward pat on the arm. “See you after.”

Rylen did head down the hallway then and let himself into her rooms, now devoid of anyone standing outside the door. There had never been a true threat to her life so having a guard with her at all times was unnecessary. They’d spoken with Sebastian Vael and the intruder the week past had been more to scare her than anything.

It had been a tremendous waste of resources, but Rylen refused to think it all bad. He’d had some time with her, even if it would now come to an end. They might continue what they were doing, but what did it matter? She would never choose a man like him when she could be with someone of her own standing.

Her reaction—or lack thereof—when Rylen appeared in her dining room proved that.

With a loud sigh, Rylen sat down on the couch to wait, no matter how long it took.

***

Once Rylen had left the room, the door shutting firmly behind him, Persephone returned her gaze to Tryggvi. Her heart hammered in her chest, but not because of his kind blue eyes. It hammered because the man who made it race had come back and now…now he would certainly leave her, even if he wasn’t planning to before.

“Is this your way of asking me to marry you?” she asked at last.

Tryggvi smiled and reached for her hand once more. “It is.” 

She looked down at their hands. Being Tryggvi’s wife may have once been what she wanted, but she was no longer a teenage girl with fanciful dreams. She had more to think about than just herself now.

And he doesn’t make you feel the way Rylen does, her heart whispered.

She swallowed and withdrew her hand. “It’s an odd request considering we haven’t spoken in fifteen years.”

“I don’t want to waste more time.” 

“We’re different people.” 

“We were good together once, we can be good together again.” 

“Tryg…” she sighed, “We were, but things have changed. I’m no longer interested in what I once was.”

He studied her silently and then smiled, “Ah well, it was worth an attempt.” 

He rose to his feet and Persephone did too. She stiffened as he leaned forward, but all he did was give her a quick peck on the cheek. “Call me if you change your mind. Bear-Tooth could really use someone like you.” 

“Kirkwall needs me.” 

“I understand. It was good to see you, Effie.” 

“You too, Tryg.” 

With another smile, he left the dining room, Persephone on his heels. Geddes snapped to attention outside the door. She looked up and down the hallway, but Rylen was nowhere to be seen, so she asked, “What happened to Lieutenant Colonel Clacher?”

“He said he’d wait for you and went in the direction of your rooms.” 

“Thank you, Geddes.” 

“Good luck.”

She didn’t give much thought to the sad smile he gave her as she dashed toward her rooms. She’d thought Rylen might disappear again and she couldn’t have him thinking she would so easily jump from him to someone else. Even if he would leave her, she didn’t want it to end like that. Couldn’t allow it.

She burst through the doors and he leapt up from his seat on the couch. Standing in front of him, she didn’t know what to say. He’d disappeared and she’d not heard a single word until he showed up at dinner.

“You left,” she said at last.

“I sent you a message.”

She frowned. Her phone. She’d left it here in her room and still hadn’t retrieved it. “I didn’t see it. I’ve been busy.”

“I saw,” was his quick response.

“You have no idea what you saw.”

“No?” He slowly advanced toward her. “He called you Effie.”

“It’s an old nickname.”

“One you let me use.” She nodded, holding his intense gaze. He stepped toward her again until he was not quite close enough for her to reach. “What happened after I left?”

“It’s not relevant.”

His nostrils flared as he stared at her. “I get it.” She wanted to ask him what he got, but he took a deep breath and then set his jaw. “I leave Kirkwall tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving?” Her hand covered her mouth and she felt like she would be sick. “Already?”

He shot her a frown. “I got what I came to Kirkwall for. No reason to stay.” 

“There’s not?” she asked helplessly. Please let him have misspoken, she prayed to any nearby god who would listen, please don’t let him mean it.

“Templars sent me to find out where Anders is. I needed a lead and I got it.” Her stomach dropped and a sharp pain pierced her heart. His next words turned the knife. “No reason to stay.”

He’d meant them.

He didn’t think she was worth staying for. Once again she’d trusted someone, opened her heart to them, and once again they’d found her lacking.

Persephone straightened her spine, ignoring the pin pricks at the back of her eyes and the lump lodged painfully in her throat. She willed herself to coldness as she looked him in the eyes. “It was about time for our fun to end, wasn’t it? Thanks for saving me the trouble.”

When he stepped toward her, her heart cracked further. She never should have allowed it to go this far. “Getting rid of me so you can get back to your Avvar lover?”

His accusation burned. “I don’t deserve that. Not when you left me.”

“I didn’t leave you.”

“Well, you certainly aren’t staying. As you so clearly stated, there’s no reason for you to.”

His brow darkened and he opened his mouth to say something, but Persephone couldn’t take it. She couldn’t listen to any more parting barbs. “You know where the door is. Use it.”

Rylen shut his mouth and shook his head. Without a word, he strode toward the door and left without so much as a backwards glance, much less a goodbye.

Persephone followed and locked it for good measure, only allowing the tears that burned at the back of her eyes to escape once she was certain no one would see them fall.


	10. Chapter 10

Tomorrow was going to be the worst day of his life if he kept up the amount he was drinking.

He should be glad that it was over with Effie. What they had was good, but she was better than he. He’d seen the look on her face when he told her to go back to the Avvar, but even if it wasn’t the Avvar lord, it would be someone else someday. Someone more to her station.

Someone not him.

He downed the rest of his drink to wash the bitter taste of that thought away. Then he lifted his hand to get the bartender’s attention as someone slid onto the stool next to him. “Hey Soldier.”

That voice was pure seduction. Rylen dragged his eyes away from his empty glass to the woman sitting next to him. She was gorgeous, with dark hair and dark eyes. “Sailor.” 

When she laughed, it was warm and enticing. Any other night he might be tempted to see where a conversation might lead, but tonight was not that night.

“It’s Captain, actually.”

“Good for you.” 

The bartender arrived. Before he could ask for another, the woman next to him—Captain somebody—ordered another round. When he’d left to grab them, the woman said, “I’m Isabela. And you are?” 

Rylen sighed as he turned to face her. She’d adjusted in her seat and now leaned toward him, giving him a prime view if he wanted to look. He kept his eyes on hers. “Thanks for the drink, but I’m nae interested. I’m just waiting for a friend.” 

“Who said I was?” Rylen shot her a skeptical look and she laughed again, leaning back on her stool. “All right, you got me there.” 

The bartender placed their drinks on the bar in front of them. The woman lifted her drink in a toast, so Rylen did the same. “Are we celebrating or drowning sorrows?”

“I dinna kin.” He clinked his glass against hers and took a slow sip.

“Celebration it is.” She drained the rest of her drink. “Cabot, another round!”

He really needed to slow down, but tonight hadn’t gone as he wanted. Not even a little. Now he was leaving, his last night to be spent drinking in a dirty bar with a woman who, at any other time, he’d have been glad to have in his bed. All because of one blasted woman he knew better than to fall for.

He shook his head and finished his drink too, leaving the empty glass on the bar next to Isabela’s, just as the bartender set the next round in front of them.

This one he’d drink slower.

“So,” she drawled, “tell me about the lover that’s got your knickers in such a twist.”

He snorted into his drink. As if he’d tell some random woman about his fling with the president. “Dinna kin how that’d help.” 

She shrugged. “Oh, fine. We can drink in silence.”

Rylen nodded, satisfied with the arrangement. He stared behind the bar as he took slow sips of his drink and thought about Effie. Telling her there was nothing in Kirkwall to stay for had been the baldest-faced lie he’d ever told, and the harshness of it grated at him.

“Still waiting on that friend?” 

“Aye.” Rylen pulled out his phone and texted Cullen. He’d told him he was on his way to the Hanged Man—what was it now? Half an hour past? There was a new text telling him his commanding officer—former commanding officer—had been held up, but he’d be there soon.

He sighed and gazed at his empty glass. How many had he had? More than he’d had in a long while. The woman next to him was a stranger. She didn’t know him or the woman he’d started to suspect he’d fallen for. What would telling her hurt? As long as he didn’t say who she was. “She was too good for me from the get go.”

“Oh?” Isabela asked. Her eyes were on him, but he didn’t look at her, choosing instead to stare at the cup he now turned over in his hands.

“She’s like…” he sighed again and set the glass down on the bar, pushing it away from him. “Do you know those storms that just appear and take over everything? It was like that with her.”

“I do know those. Does your storm have a name?” 

He shook his head. Even as the alcohol started to loosen his tongue, even her nickname was too much to share. “It was just a bit of fun.” 

Isabela flagged down the bartender and got them another drink. “I wonder, how did you end up at the Hanged Man?”

“She brought me here.” 

“She? I wonder if I know her.” 

“What makes you think you’d know her?” 

“I know everyone who comes here.” 

“Aside from the one day couple weeks past, she hasn’t been here. Too busy with her minted friends up in her palace,” he muttered, lifting his new drink to his lips.

The woman looked much more closely at him. “What unit did you say you were with?”

“I didn’t.”

She turned on her stool and leaned back against the bar with a smug look on her face. “Hawke has better taste than I gave her credit for.” 

Rylen’s eyes darted to her. “What?”

“I recognize you from the photo.”

“Photo? You know her?” 

“Of course I do.” Isabela tilted her head and peered him. “I’ve known Hawke since before she became Kirkwall’s champion. That, and she’s my best friend.”

Rylen stared at the woman. What were the odds she’d marked him, just like that? He should leave. He should. Yet...

Isabela smiled like a cat who’d just cornered her prey. “Come on, let’s find a place in the back and I’ll tell you more.” 

***

A loud banging and a shout woke her. “Hawke! Open the door. I know you’re in there.”

Persephone groaned and rolled over, shoving her face deeper into her pillow. Of course Isabela would choose this morning of all mornings to show up at her door. She loved her friend dearly, but the last thing she needed was her lighthearted teasing the morning after her heart had been ripped to shreds.

She should be relieved that he’d left before she could get too invested, but instead she was raw and hurting. And probably looked utterly miserable. Gods, she couldn’t remember the last time she cried and after last night she had no doubt she could cover the evidence. Her eyes _hurt_.

Another round of banging on the door. “I’ll pick this lock!”

Persephone lifted her head to shout back, “Go away!”

It wasn’t long before Isabela’s cheerful voice came from inside the room. “I don’t think I’ve ever found you still in bed, Hawke.”

She shook her head, afraid if she said anything she’d give herself away.

Light flooded the room as Isabela opened the curtains. After a few moments of silence, the main door to her rooms clicked shut, followed by the light clink of a plate being set on the bedside table next to her. The other side of the bed dipped under Isabela’s weight. When the scent of her freshly toasted muffin wafted reached her, Persephone finally opened her eyes.

Isabela didn’t remark on how she looked. Instead, she leaned back against the headboard and kicked her feet up—her dirty booted feet—on top of the covers. “I met someone at the Hanged Man last night who told me the most remarkable story.”

Lovely, it got worse. Now he was telling all of Kirkwall how he’d bedded their president. 

Persephone rolled over toward her breakfast and begrudgingly pushed herself up to a seat. “I don’t care.” 

“No? I thought you might want to hear what he said.” 

“I don’t.” She grabbed the muffin and, without bothering to butter it, took a bite. Her phone flashed, signaling an incoming message. It was time for her to pull herself together and be the leader her people needed.

She slid out of bed, still working on the muffin as she made her way to her bathroom. At seeing herself in the mirror, she winced. She looked worse than she’d thought. 

Isabela appeared in the mirror next to her, her eyes dancing with amusement. “It took me the longest time to realize he was talking about you. I never pegged you for the type to go for a soldier.” 

“You’ve never pegged me at all,” Persephone grumbled before taking another bite of her muffin.

Isabela laughed. “Not for lack of want, sweet thing.” 

She binned the remains of her muffin and started the shower. That would make her feel more human, it would have to. Isabela made herself comfortable on the counter, signaling that she had no intent on letting the conversation go.

“How did you even get in this morning?” Persephone dropped her robe and stepped into the shower. The hot water sliding over her body was almost an instant balm to her aching body. She held her breath and held her face under the stream until she needed a break to breathe.

“I picked the lock.”

“Into the palace.”

“Aveline wasn’t happy,” Isabela laughed from her spot on the counter, “but the young man wasn’t long for the guard anyway. Apparently, he’s a poet at heart.” 

Persephone shampooed her hair, working her fingers through the tangles of knots as Isabela continued to talk. “About that soldier…”

“Bela,” she warned.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hear about how broken up he was about whatever happened?” 

“I assure you I do not.” 

“That’s too bad.” She mused from the other side of the shower door, but thankfully didn’t say anything further. 

When Persephone finished her shower, Isabela was nowhere to be seen. All the better, Persephone sighed, and set to work getting ready for the day.

She emerged into the sitting room to find Isabela picking through the breakfast cart, loaded with all the foods Rylen had added over the week he’d spent with her. “Since when do you drink coffee, Hawke?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Who does then, I wonder...” Isabela looked over her shoulder. “You’re looking more alive.” 

Persephone headed toward the main doors. “Is there a reason you came by?” 

“Only because I was already here. You didn’t want to hear the rest.”

“Bela, you don't understand. He used me like everyone else always has.”

“Everyone? Hawke, I’m hurt.”

“Most everyone,” Persephone amended, “but it doesn’t change the fact he did.”

“Not what it sounded like to me, but of course you know best.”

Persephone nodded at her. Her phone beeped in her hand and she glanced down at it. “Lady forbid I keep the nobles waiting. Do you plan to be in Kirkwall long?” 

Isabela shook her head. “Not this time.”

“Well...thank you for stopping in. And for your help this morning.” 

Isabela snorted and waved a banana in Persephone’s direction. “Go save the world, or whatever it is you do these days.”

Persephone gave her a weak smile and opened the door. Isabela called after her, “Oh, and consider that you might have misjudged your soldier.”

She ignored that last comment, but the words echoed in her head as she made her way to the throne room. It didn’t really matter what Isabela thought. Rylen had told her he’d gotten what he came for and there was nothing else to keep him in Kirkwall.

And then he’d left. Like all the others.

***

The water ran cold when he finally dragged himself from the shower and toweled off. His head still pounded, but was already on the mend courtesy of some ibuprofen and the rehydration solution he’d downed after he’d woken up. He dressed quickly in clean clothes and tossed the dirty ones in his bag. It’d taken no time at all for him to pack up his life in Kirkwall into a single bag, small enough to fit into the overhead on the plane.

He traveled light. As little baggage he could manage. That was how he’d liked it, moving quickly from place to place as his job took him.

Rylen sat down on the edge of his perfectly made bed and stared out the small window of his room. Meeting Effie’s friend Isabela at the bar helped him see a side of Effie he’d never seen before, or maybe had willfully ignored.

Her family had lived like fugitives her entire childhood. He may have been poor but at least he had stability, Effie had known none until she ended up deep in the south at an Avvar hold. The man last night could have been anyone.

Even it had once been more…what did that matter?

Rylen had been an absolute fool.

Someone knocked on the door. Rylen leapt up and threw open the door. Cullen stood there with an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry about skipping out last night.” 

“Understandable, given the circumstances.” 

“Would you be willing to grab a drink now?” 

His stomach and his head expressed their displeasure at the same time, but Rylen ignored them. “I’d like that, ser.” 

“Grab your pack, I’ll drop you at the airport after.”

“Thanks.” Rylen grabbed his bag and followed Cullen from the room.

He didn’t look back at it, despite the weeks he’d spent there. It had only been the last week in Effie’s arms that had him holding on to Kirkwall, even as he’d told her it didn’t matter.

Cullen drove them to the Noble’s Rest, an old inn that clung to the fringes of the Hightown neighborhood. Rylen tried not to think of how close to the palace he was. Thinking of Effie wouldn’t lead to anything positive, he’d already well and burned that bridge.

The tavern was different from the Hanged Man, but Rylen liked it as soon as he stepped inside. The curtains were half drawn and the interior was covered in luxurious fabrics the Lowtown bar had never dreamed of. It was cozier and far quieter, only a couple withered men sitting alone at their tables, watching the football game on the single television hidden in a corner, easy to cover when the day crowd shifted to night.

The two men selected stools at the bar and each ordered a neat whisky.

When the drinks arrived, Cullen swirled his around in the glass. “It’s been good to have you.” 

“Glad to be here.” Rylen glanced over him. “And an honor to work with you.”

Cullen nodded at him and then took a sip, then said, “If there’s a chance to do so again, I’d welcome it.” 

“You staying in Kirkwall?” 

“For now. How long depends on the war.”

The men lapsed into silence, each of them sipping their drinks. His hangover had disappeared with the alcohol and his mind was much clearer. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Cullen’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course.” 

“Have you ever been in love?” 

He blew out a slow breath. “I thought I was once.”

“Once?” 

“She...did not return my affection.”

“What if you thought she might? “

Cullen turned in his seat. “Why do you ask?” 

Rylen sighed. Might as well tell him the truth. “I think I’m in love with her.” 

Cullen’s eyebrows somehow rose even further. “With President Hawke?” Rylen nodded his affirmation and Cullen blew out a shaky breath, his eyes opening wide. “I’d gotten reports from some of the guards that mentioned you and she were...well, I considered it might just be rumors from having you so close.” 

“It’s true.” Now that he’d said it out loud, he wasn’t sure why he’d hesitated to admit it before. He cared about her. Nae, he loved her. She’d met him as an equal, not as better than. It was time he stopped letting his own fears stand between what could be.

If she’d have him.

“I need to see her before I leave.” 

Cullen set his glass down on the bar with a loud thump. “We should get going then.” 

Rylen didn’t need to be told twice. He was up on his feet, already moving toward the door and toward his future, whether that ended with a plane to Markham or him staying in Kirkwall.


	11. Chapter 11

The nobles surrounding her droned on and on. Persephone sat as still as a statue on the ridiculous throne at the head of the throne room, a vestige from the days of Tevinter occupation. It towered thirty feet into the air, making her look smaller than she normally did. 

She hated it.

The nobles, however, ate it up. They loved lodging complaints while she sat on it, probably since there was nowhere for her to escape to when she was seated on it.

“Madam President…” Lord Philandrius Gizan paused to take a breath. Persephone hit the timer on her phone to see how long he managed without another one this time. He was the worst. He’d, at first, been pleased to have her in the role, but when he realized he couldn’t manipulate her into doing what he wanted…all of the fake goodwill disappeared. Now he typically spent the sessions complaining about the same old issues and demanding she do something she did not have the power to do.

About five minutes into his tirade, Bran tried to interrupt, but the man refused to stop talking. Persephone would give anything to beg off the rest of the session, but she sat, still as ever, waiting for it to end.

A curly head appeared on the stairs and Persephone’s thoughts immediately went to Rylen. She blinked, wondering who had hair so similar to his, but then the rest of him appeared he reached landing in front of her.

Silence fell over the room as Persephone and the nobles stared at the newcomer now standing silently in front of the throne. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be leaving Kirkwall, not standing in front of her in the palace.

It wasn’t more than a few beats of her heart before Persephone came to her senses and rose to her feet. They weren’t quite at eye level, he still had a few inches on her, but the throne’s raised platform put them on more equal footing than usual. 

She lifted her chin. “Lieutenant Colonel Clacher. What are you doing here?”

“Effie…” He started to lift a hand, curling it into a fist and dropping it back down to his side as he realized they were in the middle of a large group of people. “Can we talk?” 

She gave him a terse nod.

“In private?”

“I am in the middle of a public audience. Whatever you have to say to me, you will say it here.”

His jaw tightened as his eyes darted around. Persephone didn’t need to look at them to know the nobles that had once been milling about the room had drawn closer, enticed by the chance of a spectacle. Would she rather speak to Rylen in private? Of course she would, but this was her life. They wouldn’t be able to hide from public scrutiny for long.

He turned his eyes back to hers and gazed at her for several moments. She held her breath as he finally opened his mouth. “I’m in love with you, Effie.” 

A gasp sounded from the crowd. Persephone’s eyes darted toward where Bann Lorraine, from the farmlands northwest of the city, had her hands over her mouth. She quickly returned her gaze back to Rylen still standing in front of her. He’d admitted how he felt about her, but what did it matter how felt if he was still leaving her. “And?”

“And?” he asked, his brow furrowing at the question and a frown appearing at the edges of his mouth.

“What does that mean?” 

“It means…it means I’m in love with you. I needed you to know before…” he trailed off.

“Before you leave?” she finished. Her heart clenched, but she ignored it. “So you do still intend to?” 

He lifted his shoulders helplessly. “It’s an order. I dinna have a choice.” 

“I see.” She swallowed and inhaled a slow breath. She wasn’t enough for him to stay for. The tears she thought she’d had her fill of stung at the back of her eyes once more. “Do you feel better now that you said that out loud?” 

“It wasna about feeling better, Effie, I—”

“You do not need to repeat yourself. I heard you the first two times.”

“What?” 

“You’re supposed to be leaving Kirkwall. Perhaps it’s best you go now.”

Rylen stared at her as though he couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, though Persephone held fast to what she’d said. She could not afford to show an ounce of weakness for a man who wouldn’t choose her. The nobility would tear her apart if they spotted the tiniest chink in her armor.

He at last shook his head, dropping his gaze to the ground in front of him. He blew out his cheeks with a slow breath. “Then…guess there’s not much to say but goodbye.”

Her jaw tightened, and she said nothing in response. A murmur rose in the crowd around and Persephone stared into the distance, unable to watch him walk away from her. 

Again.

***

Rylen collapsed into his seat on the plane. It was small, which thankfully afforded him a solo seat just a couple rows back from the door. Clouds covered the skies with a moody grey that threatened rain, matching Rylen’s darkening mood.

He didn’t know how he’d walked out of that palace and ridden all the way to the airport when his entire world was collapsing around him. When he got back in the car, Cullen had immediately realized something was wrong and drove in silence, leaving him to his own thoughts. They’d both promised to get in touch if there was ever an opportunity to work together again and a firm handshake was all the goodbye the colonel had given him.

It was more than he’d gotten from Effie. 

He stared out the window, watching the slow stream of people as they crossed the runway toward the airplane, slowly climbing the stairs. One of the flight attendants stood at the front of the plane, her smiling face welcoming each passenger. Rylen didn’t want to be rude, but he couldn’t muster a smile. The flight attendant seemed to understand, offering him a gentler smile in return after his pathetic attempt. 

It was a quick flight, about forty-five minutes. He’d get himself together before he arrived, he had to.

The flow of people toward the plane had stopped. Rylen sat up straight, trying to get a better look at where an airport worker in a highlighter yellow vest blocked a group from continuing. Several black SUVs pulled up on the runway and Bran popped out of one.

He darted toward the stairs, taking them two at a time until he disappeared from view. Rylen’s heart beat faster and he returned his attention to the SUVs, trying to get a glimpse inside. He couldn’t—tinted almost true black just for that reason—but she was in one of them. She had to be.

Bran was on his way back down the stairs when someone cleared their throat from the aisle next to him. “Serah?” When he glanced up at the flight attendant, she continued, “The president would like to speak with you.” 

Rylen rose to his feet automatically and followed her the short distance down the aisle to the open door. He froze at the top of the stairs when he caught sight of Effie at the bottom.

His heart hammered even harder and louder. He wanted to believe there was a hope for them, but she’d been so clear when she told him to leave. He’d bared his heart before her and she’d wanted nothing to do with him.

Was that only an hour before? What was she doing here?

She chewed on her lower lip as she looked up at him. Behind her, the group of people waiting to board pulled out their phones, holding them up to snap photos or, worse, record.

Effie ignored them all, keeping her eyes on him. She clasped her hands together, her chest rising and falling as she inhaled deeply. Then she lifted her voice, loud enough for anyone on the runway to hear. “It would have been easier to let you get on that airplane and leave, but I couldn’t let you. At least...not without telling you that I am in love with you too. And it absolutely terrifies me.” 

Rylen’s mouth dropped open, but no words formed.

At his silence, she continued, “And I know that you said you had no choice, but I am asking you to choose me.”

“I…” 

“Please don’t go.”

He was speechless. Effie had actually come to the airport to tell him that hadn’t imagined it. She did care for him, maybe even loved him. Not going to Markham would be catastrophic for his career, but did that matter? Not when he had the most important person in his life standing in front of him, asking him to stay. 

She was choosing him and letting the whole world know. Now it was his turn.

He turned back toward the plane, his bag was still in the overhead and—

A smiling flight attendant held it out to him. “Your bag, serah.” 

“Thank you.” He took it gratefully, tossing it over his shoulder and running down the stairs toward the woman he loved.

Effie was almost back to the vehicle when his feet hit the pavement. “Effie!”

The hope that lit her eyes when she turned to face him spurred him to move all the faster. He dropped his bag and swept her into his arm, twirling her around once, then twice, before setting her back on the ground. He held her fast against him with one arm and his other hand lifted to run through her hair. She tipped her head back and he captured her mouth with his.

He poured every emotion into that kiss, making sure she knew his desperation when he’d thought he’d lost her. He only stopped when he could no longer breathe, and still he clung to her as though there were a change he might lose her again if he let go. 

“I choose you, Effie, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Tears sparked at the edges of her eyes and she pressed her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist to him. He kissed the top of her head and then pulled away from her.

“Come on,” she told him, intertwining their fingers.

“My bag.” 

But Bran was already loading it into the back of the SUV. “Just get in,” he droned. 

Rylen did as he was told, sliding into the backseat beside Effie. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tugging her to him. Her hand rested on his thigh and she leaned her head against his shoulder as the SUV raced through the streets of Kirkwall back to the palace.

Back to his future by her side.

***

Her phone buzzed insistently from the bedside table, but Persephone ignored it, instead pressing her lips to the soft underside of Rylen’s jaw. His arm tightened around her and he turned his head to gaze down at her.

They didn’t speak, just gazed at each other quietly, basking in the afterglow of being together once more.

The ride back to the palace had been an eternity, especially with Bran lecturing her on decorum from the front seat. Despite that, she couldn’t be too annoyed with him because he had helped her. Now Rylen was here in her arms and that was all that mattered.

He lowered his face to kiss her, gently, at a pace that said they had the rest of their lives to kiss exactly like that.

She slid her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him toward her for more, but her phone trilled from the bedside table. With a groan, she rolled to her back and reached for the offending phone, quickly silencing it’s loud ring.

“What is it, Bran?” she answered.

“Apologies for interrupting your…reunion, but you only have thirty minutes before the presser.” 

Persephone sighed. “Appreciate the heads up.” 

“You might also consider turning on the news.” 

“Only consider?” 

“Your choice.” She could almost hear the shrug in his voice. “I’ll send someone to get you in twenty-five.” 

“Thanks, Bran. For everything.” 

He paused so long she thought he’d hung up. “You’re welcome.”

She set the phone back down on the table and Rylen tugged her back against him, cradling her against his chest. “What did he want?” 

“That press conference is in half an hour.” 

“Must we?” Rylen asked, running his tongue along the outer shell of her ear.

Persephone quivered as pleasure shot through her body. She reached for the remote control and pressed the power button. The television tucked in the corner of her room sprang to life.

“We’re getting rid of that.”

She turned her face so she could see him. “Are we?” 

“In the bedroom we are.” 

When she returned her eyes to the television, a news anchor was speaking and her official state picture was in the upper corner. She turned up the volume to listen to what the man had to say.

“…sent in this video of President Hawke at the airport earlier this afternoon. You decide for yourself.”

Rylen rested his chin on the top of her head as the image cut to a shaky camera video of her crossing the jetway to stand at the base of the stairs. All the emotions resurfaced, the nerves making her stomach roil once more. She held her breath when Rylen appeared at the top of the stairs in the clip.

It was surreal to watch it like it was a movie. Like it was someone else’s life. Her voice came through the speakers much stronger than it had seemed at the time. The silence, the moment he turned away, it had all felt like hours, but in reality wasn’t longer than several seconds.

When Rylen ran toward her and swept her into his arms, the onlookers erupted into cheers and the video cut to a scene of her and Rylen entering the palace, hands intertwined.

“They do seem to be very much in love, Timothe,” the female anchor said as they cut back to the studio, “Does anyone know who that man is that captured her heart?” 

Persephone groaned, “That’s what they’re concerned about?” 

“They’ll know soon enough,” Rylen chuckled as he pressed his lips to the crown of her head.

“We’ll be on location at the palace live for the press conference at the top of the hour,” the female anchor beamed at the camera. “Stay tuned right here to the Kirkwall News Network.” 

Persephone switched the television off. She tried to roll away from Rylen but he held her fast.

“We’ve got this.”

“I know,” she sighed and rolled to her back to gaze at him. “It’s only that…do you even understand what it means for you?” 

“Aye. And the parts I dinna kin, I’ll learn.” He rested his forehead against hers. “By your side is where I belong.”

She smiled. He was right. By her side _was_ where he belonged. “Then I suppose we should get ready so you can tell the world.” 

“I canna wait, my love.”

Persephone smiled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Me either, Templar.”


	12. Epilogue

“Stop them!” Rylen shouted onto the pitch. The football flew past, chased by several teens jostling each other in an attempt to get to it first.

One of Ostwick’s strikers did, but Hobbes stole it and headed the opposite direction. The crowd screamed from the stands as Hobbes broke away toward the net. 

“Take it home!” 

The goalie crouched, waiting to see which direction Hobbes would go. He feinted left before going right. Time slowed as he pulled his leg back and kicked.

The ball soared to the back of the net and the crowd erupted in cheers once more.

The team ran onto the pitch and piled into Hobbes in celebration. Rylen shook hands with Ostwick’s coach and then corralled the players to shake hands with those from the other team. If he imparted one thing on them this season, it was that they would be good sports no matter the outcome of the match. When they were done, he let them loose to the crowd, and the teens immediately ran toward their family and friends in their excitement.

His eyes immediately sought out Effie. She stood clapping in the second row at the far edge of the stands. A couple guards nearby attempted to blend into the crowd, but he’d grown used to them by now, as had the other attendees. They’d been a regular occurrence at his matches for some years now.

He headed toward her, lifting her down to the grass before greeting her with a kiss.

“Congratulations, Coach,” she teased as she wrapped her arms around his waist and peered up at him.

He smiled down at her. If someone had told him when he first arrived in Kirkwall that he'd leave the military—and the Templars—to coach competitive football for kids from Kirkwall's Darktown and Lowtown neighborhoods, he’d have thought they were out of their mind. Yet here he was, more fulfilled than he had been in all his years in the military.

“I’ve a few things to wrap up before we go,” he told her as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’ll wait for you in the car.”

It wasn’t more than fifteen minutes before he was sliding into the backseat next to her. She locked her phone and reached for his hand as he buckled himself in. “Ready?”

“At your service.” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back several times. The smile he elicited from her gave him the same joy inside he’d gotten every time since the day he'd met her.

The driver took one of the routes back to the palace, their caravan racing through near empty streets behind a silent police vehicle.

“How was your day?” he asked her.

Effie rolled her eyes. “The nobles are as obstinate as ever.”

He stared down at their intertwined hands before he ran his thumb over her knuckles as he considered what to say next. They hadn’t ever talked about life beyond Kirkwall, though they both knew it would happen someday. He took a deep breath and looked up at her. “Cullen called today.” 

“Did he?” Effie asked, the surprise evident in her voice.

He nodded. “He offered me a job.” 

“Oh?” When Rylen didn’t respond, Effie squeezed his hand. “Tell me more about it?” 

“Divine Justinia is reforming the Inquisition. She called for a...they’re calling it a conclave for the opposing sides to meet and find some peace.”

“I saw that. Cullen plans to work with her?” 

“With the Inquisition,” he confirmed, “He offered me a position as his second.” 

Rylen held his breath as she held his gaze. He was happy here in Kirkwall, and he’d be happy to stay here the rest of life if that’s what she wanted, as long as he was by her side. It was a good job though, one that would be good to help rebuild his career now that the Templars were well and truly behind him. 

“Where is this Inquisition?”

“Ferelden, for now. The conclave will be at the Temple.” 

“I haven’t been to Ferelden in a decade,” she mused as she turned to gaze out the window. “I wonder how it’s changed.”

“Changed? Do you mean…” 

She squeezed his hand again and she smiled back at him. “I’ve been president for almost four years. It’s time someone else took on the responsibility.”

He tugged her toward him, burying his free hand in her hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you, my love.”

“We both are.” She pressed her lips to the soft skin beneath his jaw and rested her head on his shoulder. No matter what came next, they would face it together.


End file.
